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Ube  moi'lD'5  Classics 


CXVII 

AESCHYLUS 


OXFORD 

UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

AMEN  HOUSE,  B.C.  4 
London   Edinburgh   Glasgow 
New  York  Toronto  Melbourne 
Capetown   Bombay  Calcutta 

Madras  Shanghai 
HUMPHREY  MILFORD 

PUBLISHER  TO  THE     . 
UNIVERSITY 


^CHYLUS 

HE  SEVEN  PLAYS  IN 
ENGLISH  VERSE 


By  LEWIS  CMIPBELL,  M.A, 

HON.  LL.D.,  HON.D.LITT. 

KHEEITUS     PEOFESSOB    OF    GREEK     IN   THE 

UNIVEESITT  OF  ST.  ANDEEWS  ;  HON.  FELLOW 

OF  BALLIOL  COLLEGE,  OXFOED 


OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 
LONDON  :  HUMPHREY  MILFORD 


Aeschylus 

Eom  at  Eleusis     ....         B.C.  525 
Died  at  Gela,  in  Sicily  .         .         .         B.C.  456 

The  present  translation  was  first  published  in  'The  World's 
Classics'  in  1906,  and  reprinted  in  1912,  1923,  1925,  1928, 
1930,  and  1935. 


/mI    \ 


'7 


PaHTTED  IS  GREAT  BEITAIN  AT  THE  TTSIVERSITT  PRESS,  OXFORD 
BT  JOnS  J0IIS30S,  PRINTER  TO  THE  USIVERSITT 


TO  MRS.  FLEEMING  JENKIN 

Dkae  Mr3.  Jenkin, 

You  saw  the  beginning  of  this  work,  fi.nd  but 
for  you,  I  doubt  if  it  would  ever  have  been  begun.  You 
have  b3en  kindly  interested  in  its  progress,  and,  in 
revising  it,  I  have  owed  much  to  your  friendly  criticism. 
To  nhom,  then,  can  it  more  fittingly  be  inscribed  ? 
I  remain,  ever  yours  sincerely 

Lewis  Campb;:l:<. 


"Hie  harmoTiions  mind 
Poured  itself  forth  in  all-prophetic  song.' 
Shelley,  Prom.  Unbound 

'  Hearted  in  each  heart, 
Athenai,  undisgmeed  as  Pallas'  self.' 

R.  Browning.  Aristoph.  Apology. 


CONTENTS 

Preface        ....... 

Prefatory  Note  to  the  Edition  of  1S90 


PAGE 

ix 


The  Suppliants  . 

The  Persians 

Seven  against  Thebes 

Agamemnon 

The  Choephoroe,  or  Libation 

The  Eumenides   . 

Prometheus  Bound    . 


Bearers 


Notes 


1 

37 
73 
107 
161 
197 
231 

267 


PREFACE 

In  1877  Professor  Fleeming  Jenkin  and  his  amateur 
dramatic  company  had  honoured  me  by  producing  in 
Edinburgh  and  afterwards  in  St.  Andrews  my  translation 
of  the  Trachinian  Maidens  of  Sophocles. 

In  1897  they  asked  me  to  translate  the  Choephoroe. 
This  play  was  pronounced  unsuitable  for  a  private  stage. 
But  in  the  Spring  of  the  following  year  the  Agamemnon, 
in  a  version  which  I  had  prepared,  with  some  abridge- 
ment of  the  lyrical  parts,  was  acted  by  them  before  select 
audiences  in  Edinburgh  and  in  London.  This  version 
was  revised  and  completed  ;  and,  thus  encouraged,  I 
gradually  finished  the  translation  of  the  seven  plays, 
which  Messrs.  Kegan  Paul  &  Co.  published  in  1890. 
I  have  to  thank  that  firm  for  their  permission  to  repub- 
lish in  this  cheaper  form,  although  the  larger  edition  ia 
not  yet  exhausted. 

In  revising  my  work  for  the  present  issue  I  have 
altered  some  things  in  deference  to  recent  critical 
studies,  amongst  which  those  of  Professor  Tucker  and 
Dr.  Walter  Headlam  deserve  special  mention. 

The  numbering  of  the  lines  for  reference  is  taken  from 
Mr.  Arthur  Sidgwick's  Oxford  edition  of  the  text. 


PKEFATORY   NOTE   TO   THE 
EDITION    OF    1890 


Twice  within  human  memory  have  great  poets  been 
heartily  satisfied  with  the  time  in  which  they  lived. 
The  love  of  Dante  for  Florence,  or  of  ]\Iilton  for  the 
people  of  England,  was  associated  with  an  ideal  not  yet 
realized,  and,  like  Victor  Hugo's  proud  affection  for 
the  city  of  Paris,  was  dashed  with  bitter  experiences 
in  the  recent  past.  But  of  Spenser  and  Shakespeare 
in  England,  and  of  Aeschylus  in  Hellas,  it  may  be  said 
that,  for  them,  the  ideal  and  the  actual  were  interfused. 
They  imagined  nothing  better  than  that  the  glory  of 
Athens  or  of  the  reign  of  Elizabeth  might  spread  and 
continue.  The  exultation  of  Virgil  and  Horace  in  the 
rule  of  Augustus  is  less  unmingled,  and  less  intensely 
real.  And  the  pride  which  Aeschylus  took  in  the  renown 
of  Athens  was  associated  with  a  profound  religious 
feeling.  Tlie  secret  of  her  triumph  was,  as  he  regarded 
it,  that  principle  of  Right,  which  is  the  corner-stone  of 
civilization,  and  alone  makes  national  life  worth  living. 
And  he  found  the  sanction  of  that  principle  in  the  re- 
ligion of  Hellas,  which  he  interpreted  as  an  Eleusinian 
mystic,  perhaps  also  an  Orphic  or  Pj'thagorean  theo- 
sophist,  and  certainly  as  an  original  thinker  and  prophet. 
His  epitaph  ^  shows  that  he  was  first  a  citizen  and 
soldier,  and  then  a  poet,  although  he  is  not  for  that 
reason  less  a  poet.  His  admirer,  Aristophanes,"  de- 
scribes him  as  '  nourished  in  spirit  by  Demeter  and  her 

*  '  This  monument  in  Gela's  fruitful  plain 
Doth  Aeschylus,  Euphorion's  son,  contain. 
Of  Athens  he  ; — whose  might  the  Made  will  own, 
That  met  him  on  the  field  of  Marathon.' 

"  .\r.  Frogs,  884,  885. 


xii     PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890 

mysteries.'  What  else  he  was,  we  have  to  gather  from 
his  plays. 

Ad  a  ministsr  of  Dionysus  in  his  great  festival,  at  a 
time  when  Choerilus,  Pratinas,  and  Phrynichus  had 
already  developed  the  art  of  Tliespis  into  a  lyrical 
drama,  he  CAme  upon  the  scene  with  a  strength  of  con- 
viction only  rivalled  by  the  splendour  of  his  imagina- 
tion. His  mind  soared  far  beyond  the  reach  of  his  con- 
temporaries, but  he  more  than  satisfied  them  by  the 
concrete  form  in  which  his  thoughts  were  presented. 

Imagination  works  by  contrast,  and  to  emphasize  the 
fame  of  Athens  the  poet  took  his  audience  back  into 
a  time  when  the  claim  of  the  Suppliant  for  protection 
could  still  be  matter  for  debate,  while  the  marriage  law 
was  not  yet  fixed,  or  away  to  a  region  in  which  liberty 
was  not  yet  born,  nor  the  reign  of  law  inaugurated, 
making  them  sympathize  with  the  sorrow  of  tiie  alien 
people  whom  they  had  conquered.  Or,  again,  by  hold- 
ing up  to  them  the  patriotism  of  Eteocles  and  the  piety 
of  Amphiaraus  he  took  a  more  direct  way  of  inspiring 
their  zeal,  at  the  same  time  reminding  them,  through 
the  unnatural  horrors  of  the  house  of  Thebes,  of  the 
domestic  sanctities  that  had  been  so  violated  in  early 
days.  Once  more,  as  in  the  Oresteia,  he  exhibited 
a  pageant  of  wild  justice,  ending  with  the  triumph  of 
equity  ;  or,  as  in  the  Prometheus  trilogy,  he  sought 
to  raise  his  audience  to  a  height  from  which  they  migiifc 
contemplate  Deity  in  the  making.  But  over  all  there 
reigned  one  thought,  one  image,  one  dominant  idea  : 
the  idea  of  righteousness,  as  the  goal  towards  which 
all  human  actions  are  inevitably  drawn  or  driven  : 
the  resultant  of  all  forces,  whether  consentaneous  or 
opposed  ;  the  rewarder,  the  punisher,  the  final  recon- 
ciler. Meanwhile,  tragedy  proper  was  being  created — 
only  once  again  to  be  renewed  in  equal  strength  when 
Shakespeare  wrote  his  Hamlet,  Lear,  Othello,  and  3Iac- 
beth.  The  growth  of  this  young  giant  goes  on  apace 
from  the  Perdue  to  the  Septem,  from  the  Sept  em 
to  the  Agamemnin  and  Choeplioroe ;  in  which  last 
plays,     as    Flecming    Jenkin     said    with    pardonable 


PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890     xiii 

exaggeration,    '  the    real  Greek  drama  *    for  the  first 
time  appears. 

•  In  the  scenes  -with  Cassandra  before  the  murder, 
and  with  Clytemnestra  afterwards,  the  poet  was  swept 
away  by  his  dramatic  feelings,  and  in  writing  these 
scenes  he  invented  the  real  Greek  drama,  not  by  plan 
aforethought,  but  by  the  inspiration  of  his  subject.  In 
form  he  adheres  to' an  address  from  one  actor  to  the 
Chorus,  but  the  spirit  is  changed.  The  arrival  of 
Agamemnon,  the  prophecy  of  Cassandra,  the  murder 
of  the  King,  and  the  boast  of  Clytemnestra  form  a  real 
dramatic  representation  of  a  fact  happening  then  and 
there.  The  Chorus  changed  its  character,'  and  the 
words  assigned  to  it  might  have  been  spoken  by  a  few 
persons  on  the  stage.  They  became  actors,  whereas 
before  they  had  been  alternately  singers  of  a  sacred 
hymn  and  listeners  to  set  speeches.  The  proposition 
that  Aeschylus  invented  a  new  art  while  writing  the 
Agamemnon  is  not  a  mere  figure  of  speech.  The 
Choephoroi,  which  follows,  is  a  complete  drama  from 
beginning  to  end.  The  Chorus  takes  part  in  the  action 
throughout,  and,  when  the  stage  was  empty,  recited 
only  such  short  poems  as  might  serve  to  divide  acts. 
In  its  arrangement  the  Choephoroi  might  have  been 
planned  by  Sophocles  !  As  usual,  when  we  pass  from 
one  artistic  form  to  that  next  evolved,  something  was 
gained,  something  lost.  As  a  dramatic  entertainment, 
far  more  was  gained  than  lost  ;  and  if  even  now  the 
Agamemnon  and  Choephoroi  were  successively  acted, 
the  spectators  would,  we  venture  to  say,  prefer 
the  later  play.  The  long  hymns  of  the  Agamemnon, 
BO  beautiful  to  read,  would  be  a  trifle  dull  recited  by 
bands  of  performers.  The  declamation  of  the  single 
actor  about  the  taking  of  Troy,  or  the  sliipwreck  of 
Menelaus,  magnificent  poetry  as  it  is,  would  be  something 

'  This  remark  needs  qualification.  The  part  of  the 
Chorus,  like  all  else,  is  more  dramatically  handled  ;  but  the 
Chorus  is  not  more,  but,  if  anything,  less  prominent  as  A 
person  of  the  drama  than  in  the  Supplices  and  Ptnae. 


xiv    PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890 

like  a  reading  of  Milton  ;  we  should  admire,  but  remain 
cold.  The  play  would  not  begin  till  Agamemnon 
arrived,  and  it  would  be  over  by  the  time  Clytemnestra 
had  finished  her  great  speech  after  Agamemnon's  death. 
In  the  Chot'phoroi,  on  the  contrary,  the  interest  is 
dramatic  from  first  to  last.  The  return  of  Orestes,  the 
present  woe  of  Electra,  the  recognition  of  the  brother 
and  sister,  the  invocation  of  Agamemnon,  whose  hidden 
shade  listens  to  son  and  daughter,  the  meeting  of  Cly- 
temnestra and  her  son,  the  death  of  Aegisthus,  the 
pleading  for  life  or  death  between  mother  and  son,  with 
the  final  frenzy  of  Orestes,  form  one  unbroken  chain  of 
domestic  scenes  of  the  most  perfect  kind,  ending  in  a 
climax  far  finer  than  that  of  the  Agaynemnon.  Yet  the 
translations  of  the  Agameiyinon  outnumber  those  of  the 
Choephoroi  perhaps  by  ten  to  one,  precisely  because  the 
Agamemnon  is  as  much  a  poem  as  a  drama,  while  the 
Chot'phoroi  is  above  all  a  play.'  ^ 

In  what  remains  of  this  note  I  propose  to  touch  briefly 
on  Aeschylus'  manner  of  conceiving  and  presenting  (I) 
Mythology  and  Legend,  (2)  Crime  and  Retribution, 
(3)  War,  (4)  the  Popular  Will  (vox  populi),  (5)  the 
Characters  of  Women,  (G)  the  State  of  the  Dead  ;  and 
to  conclude  with  a  few  remarks  on  the  seven  extant 
tragedies. 

1.  Mythology. — Many  students  of  Aeschylus  have 
been  struck  with  the  boldness  of  his  innovations  in 
mythology.  Herodotus  observes  (ii.  156)  that  Aes- 
chylus alone  of  poets  has  made  Artemis  the  daughter 
of  Demeter ;  and  he  accuses  him  of  taking  this 
from  the  Egyptians.^  Nor  is  the  poet  consistent  with 
himself.  Themis  in  the  Prometheus  is  the  same  with 
Earth  ; '  in  the  Eumenides  she  is  Earth's  daughter. 
These  and  similar  facts  are  puzzling  to  those  who  have 
not  realized  the  different  parts  borne  by  mythology  and 

'  Papers  of  Fleeming  Jenkin,  vol.  i.  p.  18. 
^  i.e.  Isis  =  Demeter,  Bubastis  =  Artemis. 
'  Prometheus,  aa  a  Titan,  was  a  son  of  Earth,  but  for 
Bymbolic  purposes  he  must  be  son  of  Themis. 


PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890    xv 

custom  severally  in  Greek  religious  life.  The  same 
people  who  went  mad  about  the  mutilation  of  the 
Hermae  could  revel  in  such  free  handling  of  Divine 
persons  as  we  find  in  the  Old  Comedy.  The  truth  is, 
that  while  religious  custom  lay  upon  them  with  a  weight 
almost  as  deep  as  life,  the  changing  clouds  of  mythology 
rested  lightly  on  their  minds,  and  were  in  their  very 
nature,  to  some  extent,  the  sport  of  fancy  and  imagina- 
tion. This  gave  a  '  liberty  of  prophesying,'  of  which 
Aeschylus  was  not  slow  to  avail  himself.  The  mytho- 
poeic  instinct  was  still  at  work  in  him,  and  suggested 
to  him  imaginative  modes  of  giving  plastic  shape  to 
thoughts  that  lay  deep  within  his  mind,  and  were 
already  '  touched  with  emotion.' 

Legend. — His  treatment  of  legendary  history  is  like- 
wise free.  In  spite  of  Epic  tradition,  Mycenae  and 
Sparta  are  expunged  from  the  map  of  Hellas  for  the 
period  of  the  Trojan  War.  Agamemnon  and  J^Ienelaus 
are  joint  Kings  of  Argos.  In  the  Supph'ces  the  poet 
carries  us  back  to  a  still  earlier  time,  when  King  Pelasgus 
ruled  all  the  region  southward  from  Epirus  and 
Thrace,  making  Argos  the  centre  of  his  government. 
Similarly  in  the  Niobe,  Tantalus  described  the  limits  of 
his  Phrygian  Kingdom.^  Such  instances  afford  strong 
illustration  both  of  the  unfixed  condition  of  Greek 
heroic  legend,  and  of  the  boldness  of  Aeschylus  in  his 
employment  of  it. 

2.  Crime  and  Retribution. — The  plays  of  Aeschylus 
may  well  be  left  to  read  their  own  moral.  Each  drama 
presents  a  special  aspect  of  the  interplay  of  character 
and  destiny.  But  in  order  to  catch  the  peculiar  ethical 
note  in  this  great  poet  it  is  worth  while  to  compare  him 
for  a  moment  with  Herodotus.  In  the  moral  world 
which  the  historian  loves  to  paint,  not  pride  merely,  but 
prosperity  of  itself  insures  a  fall.  The  Xerxes  of  Hero- 
dotus works  his  own  destruction,  it  is  true  ;  but  he  is 
brought  to  this  by  the  irresistible  leadings  of  a  Divine 
power.    '  It  was  to  be  so '  (efift  oiro)  yivta bai) ;  and  when 

1  Fr.  158  (Nauck). 


xvi    PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890 

the  good  counsel  of  Artabanus  had  all  but  prevailed, 
tb.e  dream  was  sent  by  God  to  bring  it  to  nought.  The 
Xerxes  of  Aeschylus  falls  under  the  censure  of  JJarius  for 
his  impious  recklessness  in  listening  to  evil  counsellors, 
which  had  hastened  on  the  destruction  which  had  been 
prophesied  indeed,  hut  might  otheriuise  have  been  delayed. 
The  poet  here  already'  diverges  from  the  crude  notion 
of  Nemesis  and  Divine  envy,  from  which  he  makes  tl  e 
Chorus  of  the  Agamemnon  explicitly  dissent,  contending 
that  sin  (Agam.  750,  tf.),  and  not  prosperity,  is  the 
prime  cause  of  ruin.  But  when  the  ruin  falls,  it  falls 
not  on  the  individual  alone.  The  solidarity  of  the 
family  prevents  that :  and  the  consequence  of  one 
man's  crime  may  be  a  curse  that  weighs  upon  a  late  pos- 
terity. Yet  heroic  character  may  be  evinced  even  be- 
neath the  crushing  burden  of  hereditary  evil  ;  and  of 
this  Orestes  and  Eteocles  are  examples.  Orestes  is 
saved  so  as  by  fire.  For  he  acted  under  a  Divine  im- 
pulse, and  his  intention  was  just.  Eteocles  is  carried 
do\vn  into  the  whirlpool  of  fraternal  hatred,  under  the 
stress  of  his  father's  curse.  Yet  his  nobleness  is  not 
effaced.  For  he  has  saved  his  country.  Lastly,  Aes- 
chylus holds  that  Justice  will  triumph,  but  not  neces- 
sarily now.  Goodness  shall  be  vindicated,  but  in  the 
end  of  things.^  The  endurance  of  Prometheus  is  entirely 
noble.     He  suffers,  but  he  will  not  repent.     For  the  eye 

'  For  a  kindred  thought,  see  Robert  Browning's  poems, 
especially  the  '  Reverie  '  in  Asolando,  concluding  with  the 
words : — 

'  I  have  faith  such  end  shall  be  : 

From  the  first.  Power  wa.s — I  knew. 
Life  has  made  clear  to  me 

That,  strive  but  for  closer  view. 
Love  were  as  plain  to  see. 

•  When  see  ?    When  there  dawns  a  day. 

If  not  on  the  homely  earth. 
Then  yonder,  worlds  away. 

Where  the  strange  and  new  have  birth, 
And  Power  comes  full  in  play.' 


PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890    xvii 

of  Themis,  his  mother,  Goddess  of  Right,  beholds  that 
he  is  sufferins;  unjustly. 

3.  War. — The  finest  soldiers  have  always  been  most 
alive  to  the  horrors  of  the  battlefield,  and  Aeschylus  is 
not  an  exception.  Tolstoi's  Prince  Andre  hardly  goes 
beyond  him  in  this.  The  descriptions  in  War  and 
Peace  are  more  extended,  but  not  more  vivid,  than 
Clytemnestra's  imagining  of  the  state  of  things  in  Troy 
after  its  capture,  or  the  Theban  women's  apprehension 
of  what  happens  in  the  sacking  of  a  town.  And  in 
more  than  one  place  our  poet  has  anticipated  the 
peculiarly  modern  feeling  that  great  conquerors  have 
much  to  answer  for.  Even  in  the  day  of  victory  it  is 
not  forgotten  that  the  victor  is  '  a  man  of  blood,'  nor 
that  king-made  wars  are  oppressive  to  the  people. 

4.  Vox  popidi. — And  a  people's  curse  is  to  be  feared. 
Even  King  Pelasgus  must  consult  his  citizens,  before 
committing  himself  to  a  righteous  cause.  He  is  less 
absolute  than  Theseus  in  Sophocles.  To  the  astonish- 
ment of  Atossa  it  is  told  that  the  Athenians  have  no 
master,  and  are  all  the  better  soldiers  for  it.  Etcocles, 
who  has  no  other  fear,  fears  the  censure  of  the 
citizens,  if  he  should  fail.  The  murmurs  of  the  folk 
form  one  of  the  many  elements  of  gloom  in  the  Aga- 
memnon. And  the  falling  away  of  popular  respect  and 
awe  from  the  royal  house  is  one  of  the  premonitions  of 
the  fate  of  Clytemnestra  and  Aegisthus.  In  Aeschylus 
there  is  still  the  glad  consciousness  of  new-found  free- 
dom, at  one  with  law  ;  whereas  in  Sophocles  we  trace 
something  of  the  reaction  towards  oligarchy  from  the 
abuse  of  liberty.  A  different,  not  an  inconsistent,  note 
is  struck  in  the  Eumenides,  where  it  appears  that  the 
security  of  a  people's  sovereignty  rests  on  the  due 
observance  of  law  and  equity.  And  in  the  Prometheus 
yet  a  higher  strain  is  heard, — that  all  power,  apart  from 
wise  beneficence,  must  come  to  nought. 

5.  Women. — Tlae  genius  of  Aeschylus  is  essentially 
masculine,  and  the  place  of  women  in  his  world  is  sub- 
ordinate. He  regards  them  with  the  tenderness  of  a 
strong  nature,  but  the  tenderness  of  sympathy  is  tinged 


xviii    PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890 

with  conscious  superiority.  The  only  strong  woman  in 
his  extant  plays  is  Clj^temnestra,  the  murderess,  whose 
death  remains  unavenged :  for  the  character  of  his 
Antigone  is  undeveloped  ;  and  his  Electra  is  patheti- 
cally feminine,  and  not  like  the  Sophoclean  heroine. 
The  Trojan  captives  of  the  Choephoroe  are  profoundly 
embittered,  and  their  vindictiveness  is  intense.  They 
can  incite  to  violence : — but  they  do  not  act  in  their 
own  persons.  The  Lemnian  women,  in  one  of  the  lost 
dramas,  must  have  been  likewise  fierce.  The'  Dana'ides, 
in  the  play  called  after  them,  must  have  proved  capable 
of  action  in  the  last  resort ;  but  in  the  SuppLices 
the  same  persons  are  full  of  trepidation,  and  wholly 
dependent  on  their  father's  counsel.  The  Chorus  in 
the  Seven  against  Thebes  are  also  markedly  feminine. 
Their  flurry  and  feverish  excitement  form  the  dramatio 
contrast  to  the  manly  self-possession  of  Eteocles,  who 
treats  them  sternly,  yet  now  and  then  with  gentleness. 
But  of  all  dramatic  contrasts,  that  of  Cassandra  at  once 
to  Clytemnestra  and  Agamemnon  is  the  most  affecting. 
The  fierce  determination  of  the  vengeful  Queen  is  set 
in  the  most  lurid  possible  light  by  her  irmocent  victim, 
the  most  pathetic  figure  on  the  Greek  or  any  stage. 
Cassandra  has  often  been  misconceived.  Because  of 
her  prophetic  gift  she  has  been  mistaken,  as  she  herself 
prophetically  complains,  for  a  bold  '  beggar  priestess,' 
a  forward  babbler  at  the  door'  (Agam.  1274,  1195). 
Because  she  foresees  horrors,  and  quakes  before  them, 
she  is  imagined  as  a  ranting  fury.  But  the  evil  which 
she  foretells  falls  with  equal  weight  on  Agamemnon  and 
herself,  and  although  one  single  allusion  to  the  Avenger 
is  wrung  from  her  at  last,  the  thought  uppermost  in  the 
spectator's  mind  throughout  has  been,  or  should  have 
been,  '  Oh,  the  pity  of  it ! '  '  The  dainty  princess,  the 
wise  prophetess,  the  beloved  of  deity,  lost,  ruined, 
fallen  1 '  As  the  Chorus  observe,  upon  her  exit,  '  This 
is  more  piteous  than  the  ruin  of  pride.'  lo's  retrospect 
of  her  misfortunes  has  a  peculiar  pathos,  and  the 
daughters  of  Oceanus,  at  once  superhuman  and  com- 
passionate, trembling  with  awe  and  dread,  yet  not  to 


PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890     xix 

be  divided  in  extremity  from  the  sublime  sufferer,  afford 
one  more  example  of  the  range  of  the  poet's  imagina- 
tion, and  of  the  tenderness  and  depth  of  his  conception 
of  the  '  Ewig-weibliche.'  His  treatment  of  women  in 
the  extant  plays  makes  us  regret  the  loss  of  his  Niobe 
and  his  Callisto} 

6.  State  of  the  Dead. — Aeschylus'  belief  in  a  future 
state  (if  the  expression  may  be  allowed)  suggests  a 
condition  less  shadowy  than  that  implied  in  the  Homeric 
poems, — less  real,  but  also  less  remote  from  the  concerns 
of  this  life,  than  that  set  forth  by  Sophocles.  The  grave 
of  Oedipus  (in  the  Oed.  Col.)  was  to  have  a  magical 
power,  and  be  looks  forward  with  satisfaction  to  the 
blood  of  his  enemies  saturating  his  corpse.  This  notion, 
however,  stands  alone  in  Sophocles,  and  it  is  not  so 
much  a  thought  of  the  poet's  own,  as  one  of  the  data  of 
the  fable  on  which  he  drew.  ButAtossa  in  approaching 
the  monument  of  Darius,  Orestes  and  Electra  at  their 
father's  tomb,  have  the  firmest  belief  that  when  the 
libation  has  been  poured,  the  spirit  of  the  dead  will  be 
revived  and  hear.  H®  is  present  there  in  a  peculiar 
sense,  returning  to  the  spot  of  earth  where  the  body  has 
been  laid.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Ghost  of  Clytem- 
nestra  in  the  Eumenides  is  only  a  shade,  and  Darius 
bids  his  ancient  comrades  make  the  most  of  life  even 
amid  sorrows,  seeing  that  there  is  no  gladness  in  the 
grave  whither  they  must  go.  The  state  to  which  Anti- 
gone looks  forward  is  different  from  this,  more  sub- 
stantial, although  perchance  as  ineffectual.  She  wi!l 
be  herself  there,  and  will  find  her  kindred — not  their 
shadows  only.  The  manner  of  speech  is  different,  and 
conveys  a  different  belief.  Other  touches  here  and  there 
in  Aeschylus  seem  to  involve  some  communication 
between  the  dead  and  living  :    as  when  Clytemnestra 

^  See  Matthew  Arnold's  Dramatic  and  Later  loems 
(ilerope),  pp.  98-100:— 

'  But  his  mother,  Calhsto, 

The  guard-watched  Bear.' 


XX      PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890 

says  that  the  spirits  of  the  Trojan  dead  may  '  cross 
the  homeward  way '  for  the  victorious  Greeks  ;  or 
where  the  Danaides  claim  the  help  of  Epaphus,  though 
so  far  away. 

7.  Humour. — The  broad  humour  which  peers  through 
the  tragic  business  of  the  Choephoroe  in  the  speech  of 
the  Nurse  must  have  been  richly  exemplified  in  Aes- 
chylus' Satyric  dramas.  Perhaps  the  most  character- 
istic remnant  of  it  is  the  fragment  of  the  '  Fire-kindling 
Prometheus,'  where  the  Satyr,  in  playing  with  the 
strange  element,  is  in  danger  of  burning  off  his  beard. 
That  something  of  the  grand  manner  remained  even 
here  appears  from  the  fragment  where  the  sounds  of 
the  '  bull-roarer,'  or  some  exercise  of  the  human  voice 
resembling  them,  are  described : — '  Dread  imitative 
bull-like  bellowings.'  This  may  belong,  as  Hermann 
thought,  to  the  tragic  treatment  of  Bacchic  rites  in 
the  Lycurgeia.  But  it  affords  a  valuable  indication 
of  the  spirit  in  which  Aeschylus  approached  the  essen- 
tially Dionysiac  aspect  of  his  art.  Other  rustic  or 
quasi-comic  touches  are  the  figure  of  the  Watchman  in 
the  Agamemnon,  and  that  of  the  Herald  in  the 
Supplia  nts. 

The  Plays. — (1)  '  The  Suppliants.'' — Tliere  is  no  re- 
cord of  the  first  performance  of  the  Supplices.  It  was 
probably  the  first  drama  of  a  trilogy,  of  which  the  second 
part  was  the  Aegyptians  (i.e.  sons  of  Aegyptus)  and  the 
third  the  Danaides.  A  certain  naivete  of  presenta- 
tion, and  also  the  rudimentary  character  of  the  moral 
and  religious  elements,  as  well  as  the  prevalence  of  lyrio 
measures  and  the  prominent  part  taken  by  the  Chorus, 
justify  us  in  regarding  this  as  an  early  play.  It  is  in 
fact  rather  a  Cantata  than  a  tragedy.  The  poet  had 
not  yet  attained  the  depth  and  breadth  and  height  of 
his  art. 

(2)  '  Persae.' — The  Persae  was  first  put  on  the  stage 
in  472,  seven  years  after  Plataea.  It  stands  alone 
amongst  the  extant  tragedies  in  treating,  not  myth  or 
legend,  but  solid  history,  and  history  which  the  dra- 
matist himself  had  helped  to  make.     But  an  ideal  treat- 


PREFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890    xxi 

ment  is  secured  by  the  imaginative  reversal  of  the 
ordinary  Hellenic  point  of  view,  the  great  struggle  being 
represented,  not  as  it  affected  Hellas,  but  as  it  must 
have  reacted  on  the  Persian  Court.  No  Greek  is  men- 
tioned by  name  throughout  the  play.  The  Persae  was 
the  central  tragedy  of  three  that  were  produced  at 
the  same  time — the  Phineus,  Persae,  and  Glaucus  of 
Potniae — togetherwith  the  Satyric  drama  oi Prometheus 
with  the  Fire,  referred  to  above.  There  is  no  apparent 
connexion  between  the  subjects,  and  it  is  not  certain 
that  there  was  any  such  organic  connexion  between 
the  plays  as  in  the  case  of  the  Lycurgeia,  the  Oedipodeia, 
and  the  Oresteia. 

(3)  '  Seven  against  Thebes.^ — The  Seven  against  Thebes 
was  long  believed  to  be  the  second  drama  of  three,  as 
tile  conclusion  points  forward  either  to  an  Antigone  cr 
an  Epigoni.  It  is  now  known  to  have  been  the  third 
andconcluding  tragedy  of  iheOedipodeia,hemg  preceded 
by  a  Laius  and  an  Oedipus.  This  shows  that  Aeschylus 
did  not  yet  round  off  his  trilogies  so  completely  as  he 
has  done  in  that  which  happily  remains  entire.  It 
also  proves  that  the  '  drama  of  reconciliation  '  was  not 
necessary  to  an  Aeschylean  trilogy. 

(4,  5,  6)  The  '  Oresteia.' — The  Oedipodeia  was  per- 
formed in  467  B.C.  Between  this  and  the  production 
of  the  Agamemnon,  Choephoroe,  and  Etimenides,  there 
was  an  interval  of  nine  years,  which  must  have  been 
well  and  fruitfully  employed.  For  there  is  more  of 
thought  and  power  in  these  than  in  all  the  preceding 
plays. 

(7)  The  Promethean  Trilogy. — The  precise  date  of  the 
Promethean  trilogj'  is  unknown.  But  the  structure  and 
versification  are  not  in  the  poet's  earlier  manner.  And 
in  the  allusion  to  the  eruption  of  Aetna  and  some  other 
minute  points,  critics  have  found  traces  of  his  visit  to 
Sicily,  which  is  said  to  have  taken  place  between  472 
and  468  B.C.  Prometheus  is  put  last,  not  as  being 
necessarily  later  than  the  Oresteia,  but  as  being  sui 
generis  amongst  the  extant  dramas,  belonging  to  the 
class  of  superhuman  plays,  which  included  also  the 


ixii    PHEFATORY  NOTE  TO  EDITION  OF  1890 

Psychostasia,  and  perhaps  the  Niobe,  and  to  which  the 
Eumenides  is  partially  related. 

For  further  remarks  the  reader  is  referred  to  the 
notes  at  the  end  of  this  volume,  and  to  the  short  intro- 
ductions prefixed  to  the  several  plays.^ 

*  See  also  the  Translator's  Essay  on  Tragic  Drama 
(Smith,  Elder  &  Co.),  and  A  Guide  to  Greek  Tragedy 
(Rivingtons);  also  Religion  in,  Greek  Literaturz  (Loag- 
maas). 


THE   SUPPLIANTS 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

Chorus  of  Banatdes  {Daughters  of  Danaus), 

Danaus. 

Pelasgus,  the  King. 

The  Herald  of  the  sons  of  Aejyptus. 

Attendant  Maidens. 


ScE^'■E — a  sacred  place  between  Argos  and  the  sea. 
TiiiE — prehistoric. 


Aeschylus  is  fond  of  contemplating  morality  in  the 
making.     By  throwing  back  imagination  to  a  time  when 
'  what  is  now  Hellas  was  Pelasgia,'  and  Argos  was  the  metro- 
polis of  a  kingdom extendingfrom  Epirus  to  Cape Taenarum, 
he  is  able  to  represent  the  protection  of  the  suppUant  as 
a  duty  that  was  still  open  to  debate,  and  also  to  recall  an 
inchoate  stage  of  the  laws  respecting  marriage,  and  so  to 
prepare  for  the  interesting  theme  of  the  '  Danaides,'  of 
which  the  only  considerable  fragment  is  part  of  the  de- 
fence of  Hypermnestra  (or  of  Aphrodite  on  her  behalf)  for 
her  '  splendid  perfidy '  in  sparing  her  cousin-bridegroom, 
Lynceus,  from  assassination  on  the  marriage  night : — 
'  The  holy  Heaven  longs  for  Earth's  yielding  breast, 
Earth  inly  yearns  to  feel  the  fond  embrace. 
Heaven  melting  then  descends  in  genial  rain, 
Quickening  Earth's  womb,  that  bears,  to  bless  mankind, 
Demeter's  gifts,  and  yeanling  flocks  that  graze. 
Prom  that  moist  marriage-rite  the  woods  put  on 
Their  pomp.     The  fault  of  Earth  and  Heaven  is  mine. 

The  legend  of  lo,  which  forms  the  background  of  the 
story,  connects  the  subject  of  this  drama  with  that  of  the 
Prometheus  Bound. 

Danaiis  and  his  daughters  have  just  landed  on  the  coast 
of  Argolis.  They  are  met  by  King  Pelasgus,  to  whom 
the  Danaides  present  their  credentials  of  Argive  descent, 
craving  sanctuary  from  the  violenceof  the  sons  of  Aegyptus, 
who  are  seeking  them  in  marriage.  After  some  parleying, 
the  king  and  hie  people  undertake  to  give  them  refuge  and 
protection.  Then  the  sons  of  Aegyptus  are  seen  approaching. 
They  are  preceded  by  a  Herald  who  demands  the  persona 
of  the  maidens.  He  is  repulsed,  but  threatens  war,  and  tlie 
play  ends  doubtfully,  one  half  of  the  Chorus,  no  doubt 
including  Hypermnestra,  appearing  not  altogether  disin- 
clined to  yield  to  the  inevitable  seizure. 


THE   SUPPLIANTS 


Chorus. 

Let  the  lord  of  suppliants  smile 

On  our  ship-borne  train,  who  come 
From  the  sand-heapt  mouths  of  Nile, 

Wafted  o'er  the  wide  sea-foam  ! 
Exiles  from  the  sacred  land 

Bordering  Syria's  meads,  we  flee. 
Not  for  guilt  of  murder  banned 

By  a  people's  just  decree. 
But  because  we  durst  not  wed 

With  Aegyptus'  sons,  our  kin, 
Hating  with  a  holy  dread 

Thought  of  that  enforced  sin. 
Danaiis  then,  our  prudent  sire, 

Weighing  all  the  desperate  game, 
Taking  part  with  our  desire. 

Deemed  it  best,  as  least  in  blame, — 
Noblest  in  a  choice  of  woe, — 

Launching  forth  in  checkless  flight, 
O'er  the  briny  wave  to  go. 

Guarded  by  a  father's  right. 
Till  we  trode  this  Argive  strand, 

\^Tience  we  trace  our  boasted  line 
Through  the  touch  of  Zeus's  hand 

And  his  gentle  breath  divine. 
Freeing  lo  from  the  pest 

Of  the  biting  brize,  that  drave 
That  poor  heifer,  robbed  of  rest, 

Over  lands  and  seas  to  rave. 
Where  then  should  we  wanderers  find 
For  our  need  a  soil  more  kind  ? 
Whither  else  direct  our  way 
Armed  with  wreaths,  the  suppliant's  stay  7 


4  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [24-62 

Land  and  city,  stainless  streams, 

Gods  that  overlook  this  clime  ; 
Tombs  that  hide,  withdrawal  from  dreams. 

Honoured  souls  of  eldest  time  ; 
Zeus,  great  Saviour  of  pure  homes. 

Worshipped  third  when  wine  is  poured, — 
Kindly  entrance  'neath  yon  domes 

May  ye  one  and  all  afford. 
Breathing  mercy  from  your  land  , 

On  our  female  suppliant  band, — 
Ere  our  father's  brother's  race, 
Forcing  an  abhorred  embrace. 
Make  their  own  in  our  despite 
Wedlock  barred  by  Heaven  and  Ricrht. 
Ere  their  feet  have  touched  your  plain 
Send  them  coursing  o'er  the  main 
Lashed  with  rainy  winds,  and  driven 
By  hot  thunderbolts  from  Heaven, 
TiU  they  founder  'mid  the  sweep 
Of  the  wildly  weltering  deep. 

Divine  Protector,  now  beyond  the  sea,  ^  .   ^  ^ 

Son  of  the  highest,  the  wandering  heifer's  child,— 
For  while  she  roamed,  and  cropped  the  flowery  lea, 

Zeus  breathed  on  her,  and,  ever  undefilcd. 
She  felt  the  touch  that  filled  her  veins  with  thee, 
And  made  her  to  be  mother  of  ua  all  ; 
Epaphus,  named  of  Fate,  on  thee  we  call ! 
Here,  mindful  of  our  ancient  mother's  woes,  I  2 

Amid  these  grassy  fields,  her  pasturage. 
Clear  present  proofs  of  birth  we  shall  disclose  ; 

And  all  the  past,  a  weird  miraculous  page. 
Strange  as  the  trouble  whence  our  race  arose. 
Convincing  even  to  doubters  shall  appear  ; 
Let  but  the  people  lend  a  patient  ear. 
Haply  some  bird-diviner  in  the  vale  11  1 

Of  ArgoUs,  perceiving  our  sad  plaint. 
Shall  think  he  hears  the  pity-moving  wail 

Of  Tereus'  wife,  mourning  without  restraint. 
The  hawk-pursued,  despairing  nightingale. 


63-99]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  5 

She  movirns  the  strangeness  of  an  alien  land,       II  2 
Of  alien  streams  ;    but  more  for  that  wild  blow, 

Unnaturally  stricken,  unkindly  planned. 

That  gave  her  child  his  timeless  overthrow 

Felled  by  a  cruel  mother's  wrathful  hand. 

I  too,  like  her,  in  soft  Ionian  numbers.  III  1 

Indulging  sorrow,  tear  this  tender  cheek 
Bv  Egypt's  suns  embrowned,  and  wake  from  slumbers 

Of  careless  maidenhood  a  heart  once  weak — 
Unexercised  in  pain.     I  cull  from  grief 

Soul-moving  strains,  fear-smitten  to  the  core 
By  mine  own  kin,  and  pleading  for  relief 

In  this  my  flight  from  yonder  faint-blue  shore. 

Who  cares  for  me  ?   Gods  of  our  lineage  proud.      III  2 

Listen  with  heed  ;  look  on  the  righteous  cause  ! 
Yield  not  our  flower  to  lordship  unallowed  ; 

True  to  yourselves,  uphold  grave  Hymen's  laws. 
And  ban  rude  violence.     Even  in  war 

Afflicted  wights  find  shelter  and  sure  hold 
Beside  your  altars — evermore  a  ba.r 

To  lawless  force,  by  fear  of  Heaven  controlled. 

Let  highest  in  mind  be  most  in  might.  IV  1 

The  choice  of  Zeus  what  charm  may  bind  ? 

His  thought,  'mid  Fate's  mysterious  night, 
A  growing  blaze  against  the  wind 

Prevails  : — whate'er  the  nations  say, 

His  purpose  holds  its  darkling  way. 

What  thing  his  nod  hath  ratified  IV  2 

Stands  fast,  and  moves  with  firm  sure  tread, 

Nor  sways,  nor  swerves,  nor  starts  aside. 
A  mazy  thicket,  hard  to  tliread, 

A  labyrinth  undiscovered  still. 

The  far-drawn  windings  of  his  will. 

Down  from  proud  towers  of  hopo  V  1 

He  throws  infatuate  men. 
Nor  needs,  to  reach  his  boundless  scope. 

The  undistressful  pain 


G  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [100-143 

Of  godlike  effort ;  on  his  holy  seat 
He  thinks,  and  all  is  done,  even  as  him  seems  most 
meet. 

Let  him  behold  and  see  V  2 

What  crooked  thoughts  of  crime 
That  swarthy  brood,  flushed  with  desire  of  me. 

Plan  in  their  youthful  prime, — 
Stung  with  mad  passions  in  resistless  throng, 
And  never,   save  through   loss,   to   be  convinced  of 
wrong. 

I  all  the  while,  lamenting  this  dire  lot  VI  1 

With  cries  and  groans,  and  salt  tears  streaming  hot, 
Li  sounds  beseeming  dirges  for  the  dead, — 

Ah  well-a-day  !  the  mourner's  way, — 
Grace  with  this  wail  my  living  maidenhead. 
Dear  land  of  hills,  my  voice,  though  alien  grown. 
Implores  thee  with  a  stiU-remembered  tone, 
While  ruthless  I  destroy  with  many  a  rent 
This  flaxen  veil  of  Tyrian  ornament. 

If  all  end  well,  and  death  remain  aloof,  VI  2 

Full  swiftly  shall  the  gods  have  ample  proof 
Of  grateful  hearts  with  offerings  brimming  o'er. 

O  troublous  hour  !  O  hidden  power  ! 
This  swelling  wave  upbears  me — to  what  shore  ? 
Dear  land  of  hills,  my  voice,  though  alien  grown. 
Implores  thee  with  a  still-remembered  tone, 
Wliile  ruthless  I  destroy  with  many  a  rent 
This  flaxen  veil  of  TjTian  ornament. 

With  harmless  wafture  of  a  temperate  wind     VII  1 
Broad  blades  of  Nile-made  bark,  papjTus-hned, 
(Safe  convoy  o'er  an  untempestuous  sea). 
Have  brought  us.     Here,  shaping  the  end,  may  He, 
The  Father  all-beholding,  lend  his  grace. 

That  lo's  high-born  race, 
Saved  from  dishonouring  her  from  whom  they  came, 
May  'scape  the  soilure  of  their  virgin  fame. — 


I44-I7S]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  7 

And  may  his  child,  Artemis,  ever  kind,  VII  2 

Look  on  us  maidens  with  a  maiden's  mind. 

Defending  our  unscathed  integrity, 

Pursuing  our  pursuing  foes,  may  she 

With  darts  o'erwhelm  them  from  her  holy  place : 

That  lo's  high-born  race, 
Saved  from  dishonouring  her  from  whom  they  came, 
May  'scape  the  soilure  of  their  virgin  fame. 

Rather  than  marry  with  the  men  we  fear,       VIII  J 
This  dark-hued  countenance  by  HeUos  burned — 
If  Lords  Olympian  will  not  hear — 
To  lowlier  Hades  shall  be  turned. 
To  him  through  Strang' ing  will  we  go. 
Boon  welcomer  of  wearied  souls  below. 
To  him  these  sacred  branches  bear. 
Him  visit  with  importunate  prayer. 
Supreme  o'er  realms  of  night 
As  Zeus  o'er  realms  of  light. 
Ah,  Zeus  !  heal  lo's  ban  and  bane  ! 
Heaven's  large  benevolence  and  counsel  sage 
I  find  o'erborne  by  Hera's  boisterous  rage, — 
Wind  after  storm,  cloud  following  rain. 

Zeus  then  (forbid  it.  Fate  !)  would  be  reviled     VIII  2 
With  blasphemy  too  hideous  to  be  told. 
How  he  hath  scorned  his  heifer's  child. 

Begotten  by  himself  of  old. 

His  own  son  Epaphus,  whose  seed 

Forsaking  in  their  piteous  need. 

He  turns  his  face  from  their  despair 

Nor  heeds  their  unavailing  prayer. — 
Nay,  bending  from  on  high. 
Hear  thou  our  inmost  sigh  ! 

Ah,  Zeus  !  heal  lo's  ban  and  bane  ! 
Heaven's  large  benevolence  and  counsel  sage 
I  find  o'erborne  by  Hera's  boisterous  rage, — 

Wind  after  storm,  cloud  following  rain. 


8  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [176-206 

Danaus 
Das.  Children,  take  heed — since  with  good  heed  ye 
are  come, 
Through  me,  that  shaped  this  voyage,  your  aged  sire  ; 
Whose  words,  now  that  ye  tread  the  sohd  ground, 
With  no  less  caution  grave  within  your  souls. 
Yon  cloud  of  dust,  a  silent  harbinger. 
Foretells  a  coming  troop,  whose  grinding  wheels, 
Whirled  on  strong  axletrees,  even  now  I  hear. 
And  now  I  see  with  steeds  and  chariot-rims 
A  shielded  host,  spearmen  in  proud  array. 
Methinks  the  leaders  of  this  land  are  come 
To  view  us,  moved  by  tidings  they  have  heard : 
It  may  be,  without  harm  ;  it  may  be,  whetted 
To  savage  ire  they  stir  this  army  on. 
In  either  case,  O  maidens,  'tis  most  meet 
Ye  settle  on  this  mound,  and  supplicate 
The  people's  gods  that  sit  in  conclave  here  :  — 
The  altar's  refuge  is  a  shield  of  proof. 
Mightier  than  fenced  wall. — With  swiftest  speed 
Eun  hither,  and,  in  solemn  wise,  upholding 
With  your  left  hands  those  white-wreathed  suppliant 

boughs. 
Wherein  the  God  of  mercy  takes  dehght. 
Make  seemly  answer  to  the  stranger  men. 
Telling  the  motive  of  your  innocent  flight. 
With  pity-moving,  reverent,  pleading  words, 
Becoming  such  unlooked-for  visitants. 
Let  all  your  accents  -wathout  boldness  fall. 
And  from  chaste  brows  and  free,  untroubled  gaze. 
Let  modesty  bespeak  your  sober  mind. 
In  speech  be  neither  sudden  nor  too  slow  : 
Soon  ruffled  is  the  race  that  harbours  here. 
As  needy  refugees,  be  it  yours  to  yield. 
Boldness  in  speech  never  became  the  weak. 

Cho.    Thy  prudent  counsel  meets  our  cautious  mood. 
Dear  sire  !  And  these  thy  precepts,  fraught  with  care, 
Our  memories  shall  watchfully  preserve. 
Let  Zeus,  the  parent  of  our  race,  behold  ! 


207-240]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  9 

Dan.  Then  haste,  but  firmly  hold  the  wands  ye 

bear. 
Cho.  Forthwith  I  would  be  seated  at  thy  side. 

Cho.  Zeus,  save  thy  suppliants,  pity  our  distress  ! 

Dan.  Let  him  behold  you  with  a  gracious  eye. 

Cho.  If  he  vouchsafe,  the  end  shall  yet  be  well 

Dan.  Now  call  on  this  his  winged  messenger. 

Cho.  We  call  upon  the  Sun's  all-fostering  ray. 

Dan.  And  Phoebus,  once  a  fugitive  from  heaven. 

Cho.  Holy  Apollo,  feel  our  lot  hke  thine. 

Dan.  May  he  regard  and  zealously  defend  ! 

Cho.  Whom  else  of   this   great  conclave  should   I 
call  ? 

Dan.  I  see  the  trident  here,  a  god's  dread  sign. 

Cho.  He  sped  us  hither.     May  he  welcome  too  ! 

Dan.  And  here  is  Hermes  in  his  Grecian  guise. 

Cho.  Herald  of  good  !     May  he  proclaim  us  free. 

Dan.  Now  worship  at  the  shrines  of  all  these  lords 
Conjointly,  as  ye  crowd  the  sacred  place 
Whereto  ye  cling  like  Hocking  doves  that  fly 
From  hawks  of  kindred  hue — O  hateful  kin, 
That  ruffles  its  ot\ti  race  !     Pollution  deep 
For  bird  to  ravin  on   bird's  flesh  !     Pollution 
Not  less  profound  to  force  the  unwilling  bride 
From  her  reluctant  sire.     Not  even  in  death 
Shall  he  who  hath  done  it  be  assoiled  there 
Of  wanton  criminality.     Men  say. 
Another  Zeus  beneath,  among  the  dead. 
Gives  final  judgement  on  all  wrongful  deeds. 
Be  circumspect,  and  order  your  reply. 
So  that  your  cause  may  win  deserved  success. 

Enter  King  Pelasgus. 
King.  WTiat  company  peers  now  before  mine  eye 
With  manifold  Barbaric  garments  proud, 
Ungreek  in  garb,  uncouth  ?     Nor  Argohs 
Nor  any  Grecian  land  so  robes  its  women. 
I  marvel  how  ye  came  thus  fearlessly 
Unheralded,  unharbingered,  untended 


10  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [241-278 

By  native  guides.     Yet  duly  ye  have  laid 
Your  suppliant  branches  on  the  altar-steps 
Of  all  our  people's  gods  assembled  here. 
This  point  alone  argues  a  Grecian  strain. 
Much  else  one  might  conjecture,  but  fair  speech 
In  present  conference  should  make  all  clear. 

Cho.  You  note  our  raiment  truly.     But  to  whom 
Address  we  this  discourse,  mere  citizen, 
Or  warden  of  some  fane,  or  chief  o'  the  state  ? 

Ejng.  When  I  have  said,  take  heart,  and  answer  me. 
Earth-born  Palaechthon  was  my  sire  ;  I  am  named 
Pelasgus,  and  bear  rule  o'er  all  this  land. 
Whence,  rightly  named  from  me  their  sovereign, 
Pelasgian  are  they  called  who  reap  these  fields. 
Of  all  the  region  Strymon's  holy  stream 
Divides,  the  westward  portion  owns  my  power. 
I  reach  to  the  Perrhaebians  and  the  coasts 
Past  Pindus,  neighbouring  the  Paeonian  tribe. 
And  the  Dodonian  mountains.     There  the  sen, 
Sets  her  moist  limit  to  my  sway.     I  am  lord 
Within  those  boundaries.     But  this  fair  plain 
Is  Apian  ground,  so  called  in  thankfulness 
To  Apis,  a  renowned  physician  here. 
Who  coming  from  Naupactus  over  sea, 
Apollo's  child  inspired  with  healing  power. 
Cleansed  all  the  land  from  man-destroying  plagues 
Of  monsters  whom  great  Earth,  infested  sore 
With  stains  of  ancient  murder,  gave  to  light. 
Children  of  wrath,  a  clustering  serpent-brood. 
Release  therefrom,  through  searching  remedies. 
Apis  effected  for  this  Argive  land. 
And  won  remembrance  at  each  hour  of  prayer. 
Ye  have  my  tokens  :  now  declare  your  own  ; 
Tell  forth  your  pedigree  ;  unfold  your  case. 
But  know,  this  people  loves  not  long  discourse. 

Cho.  Our  tale  is  brief  and  clear.     Of  Argos  we 
Claim  lineage — the  fair-childed  heifer's  seed. 
All  this  with  proofs  will  I  confirm  for  true. 

King.  Unlikely  to  my  hearing  sounds  your  tale, 
O  stranger  maids,  that  Argive  is  your  race. 


279-314]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  11 

!More  African  than  Grecian  is  your  mien, 
Nowise  resembling  women  native  here. 
Old  Nile  might  nourish  such  a  waterplant. 
The  Cyprian  likeness  may  be  traced  in  you 
Stamped  by  male  artists  on  a  female  mould. 
Or  bare  ye  but  the  quiver,  I  might  guess 
Full  well  that  ye  were  Amazons,  who  feed 
On  flesh  and  know  not  men  ;  or  Indian  women. 
Of  whom  I  hear  as  wandering  far  and  wide 
With  pack-saddles  on  trotting  dromedaries, 
And  dwelling  near  the  Aethiopian  folk. 
Inform  me,  then,  more  perfectly,  what  way 
Your  seed  and  parent-stock  from  Argos  came. 

Cho.  'Tis  said  that  in  this  Argive  land  erewhile 
lo  was  doorkeeper  of  Hera's  Fane. 

King.  Certes  she  was  ;    strong  Rumour  makes  us 
know. 
Is't  said  that  Zeus  to  mortal  maid  came  near  ? 

Cho.  Yea,  and  that  Hera  knew,  and  would  prevent. 

King.  How  ended  such  a  high-enkindled  feud  ? 

Cho.  Your  goddess  turned  the  woman  to  a  cow. 

King.  But  was  the  horned  heifer  safe  from  Zeus  ? 

Cho.  He  took  the  likeness  of  a  leaping  bull. 

King.  What  then  contrived  the  mighty  Queen  of 
Heaven  ? 

Cho.  She  set  a  sleepless  watch,  with  myriad  eyes. 

IviNG.  What  all-seeing  herdman  of  one  heifer  ?     Say. 

Cho.  Argus,    the   child   of   Earth, — whom    Hermes 
slew. 

King.  What  framed  she  more  for  the  poor  cow's 
aimoy  ? 

Cho.  a  goading  gad-fly,  giving  her  no  rest. 

King.  'Tis  called  the  '  brize '  by  neighbours  of  the 
Nile. 

Cho.  This  drave  her,  banished,  on  a  distant  course. 

IviNG.  Your  tale  sorts  fitly  with  the  truths  I  know. 

Cho.  Canopus  and  then  Memphis  saw  her  come. 

Cho.  Zeus  with  a  finger-touch  begat  a  child. 
King.  How  then  was  named  the  heifer's  birth  divine? 


12  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [315-346 

Cho.  Named  from  the  touch  that  gat  him,  Epaphus. 


Cho.  Lybia,  who  ruled  a  wide  extent  of  earth. 

King.  \Vhat  other  child  of  hers  hast  thou  in  mind  ? 

Cho.  Bel,  with  two  sons,  sire  of  my  father  here. 

Kjxg.  Of  thrilling  moment  is  this  name.     Declare  it. 

Cho.  Danaiis,  whose  brother  fifty  sons  begat. 

King.  His  name,  too,  let  thy  liberal  words  reveal. 

Cho.  Aegj'ptus.      Now    thou    knowest    my    primal 
race. 
Act  therefore  as  toward  Argive  visitants. 

King.  In  truth  ye  seem  to  me  to  be  of  kin 
Ancestrally  to  Argos.     But  what  stroke 
Of  fortune  made  you  leave  your  native  home  ? 

Cho.  Pelasgian  lord,  the  troubles  of  mankind 
Are  manifold.     Sorrow  hath  various  hues. 
Who  could  foretell  this  unexpected  flight, — • 
That  Argos'  ancient  kindred,  a  new  care. 
Should  touch  her  strand,  shrinking  from  hateful  wed- 
lock ? 

Kino.  Say,  what  imports  your  supphcation  here, 
With  these  fresh  branches  -sATcathed  in  whitest  wool. 
Before  the  altars  of  our  people's  gods  ? 

Cho.  Not  to  be  subject  to  Aegyptus'  race. 

King.  As  enemies,  or  in  some  infamous  bond  ? 

Cho.  An  honourable  bond  to  friends  were  good. 

Kjng.  By  such  means  human  strength  is  multiplied. 

Cho.  And  severance  of  such  bonds,  if  things  go  ill, 
[s  easily  accomphshed  without  harm. 

King.  How  then  may  I  maintain  good  faith  with 
you 
Before  the  gods  ? 

Cho.  Give  us  not  up  again. 

Though  they  demand  it,  to  Aegyptus'  sons. 

King.  A  heavy  task,  to  take  new  wars  in  hand  ! 

Cho.  Justice  protects  the  champion  of  the  weak. 

King.  I   had   nought   to  do   with  these  affairs  at 
first. 

Cho.  Respect  the  stern  o'  the  state  thus  garlanded. 

King.  I  see  those  steps  o'ershadowed,  and  I  fear. 


347-380]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  13 

Cho.    'Tis    danger,    when    the    Zeus    of    suppliants 
frowns. — 
Child  of  Palaechthon  hear  !     Accord  thine  ear  !     I  1 
See  us  thy  suppliants  wind  our  restless  flight. 
Like  some  poor  heifer  whom  the  wolves  pursue 
To  inaccessible  rocks,  where,  taking  refuge, 
With  piteous  lowings,  trusting  human  aid, 
She  tells  the  herdman  her  sore  trouble. 

IviNG.  I  see 

TVith  wonder  your  strange  company,  that  shades    - 
With  boughs  fresh-pulled  these  public  altar-steps. 
Would  this  affair  might  leave  our  common  weal 
Scathless,  nor  raise  unlooked-for  strife,  unsought. 
To  Argos,  that  of  strife  hath  httle  need  ! 

Cho.  Yea,  scathless    may  our  refuge  prove  !      Be- 
hold it,  I  2 
Themis  of  suppliants,  daughter  of  Him  who  guards 
All  true  inheritance  ! — Old  though  thou  art. 
Let  thy  great  mind  learn  from  our  youthful  lips. 
Be  kind  to  suppliants  and  thou  shalt  not  fall. 
Heaven  still  regards  the  offerings  of  the  just. 

Ki^'G.  Ye   are   not  kneeling   at   my  hearth.     This 
people 
Shall  see  to  it,  should  pollution  touch  the  state, 
To  find  due  remedies.     Promise  from  me 
Ye  cannot  have,  till  all  our  citizens 
Have  heard  your  cause. 

Cho.  Thou  art  the  city,  thou  II  1 

The  sovereign  state,  thy  word  without  appeal. 
The  city's  hearth  is  thine,  her  altars  come 
Beneath  thy  sway,  thy  mandate  all  supreme. 
Thy  sceptre  ratifies  each  public  act 
Given  from  thy  throne.     Beware  of  sacrilege  ! 

King.  May  sacrilege  attaint  mine  enemies. 
I  cannot  help  you  without  bringing  bane. 
Yet  to  reject  your  prayer  were  savagery. 
Which  answer  should  I  hazard  ?     Ay  or  no  ? 
The  issue  is  dark.     I  am  distraught  with  fears. 


14  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [381-417 

Cho.  Think  of  the  eye  that  scans  you  from  above.  II 2 
Yea,  think  of  him  who  shields  all  wretched  wights, 
And,  when  their  prayer  is  baffled,  wreaks  their  wrong. 
The  wrath  of  Zeus,  befriender  of  the  oppressed. 
Inexorably  attends  on  their  complaint. 

KxNG.  Aegyptus'  sons  perchance  have  rights  in  you 
As  your  next  kinsmen.     Should  they  press  that  claim 
Under  your  country's  law,  who  could  oppose  ? 
Needs  must  you  plead  some  clear  Aegyptian  rule 
That  bars  your  persons  from  their  government. 

Cho.  Heaven  keep  me  from  the  hand  of  my  male 
kin  !  Ill  I 

Wherever  Earth  beholds  the  stars,  I  will  fly 
That  hated  wedlock.  Choose  the  pious  part. 
And  righteousness  supreme  shall  fight  for  thee. 

King.   Make  not   me    chooser ;    for  the  choice   19 
hard. 
The  state  must  share  my  counsel,  as  I  said. 
Though  I  be  sovereign  ;  lest  my  people  say. 
Should  aught  untoward  be  sequel  to  this  act, 
'  Honouring  chance-comers,  thou  hast  ruined  Argos.' 

Cho.  Kinsman  to  both,  determining  the  event.  III  2 
Zeus  holds  the  scales,  assigning  rightfully 
Guilt  to  the  wicked,  pureness  to  the  just. 
What  after-trouble  is  thine,  if  thou  deal  justly  ? 

KnsfQ.    Deep    thought    is    needed    for    our    safety 
here, 
A  calm  clear  eye,  serene  and  temperate. 
That,  like  the  diver,  searches  out  the  abyss, 
To  find  an  issue  scathless  for  the  state. 
And  rich  with  honour  for  ourselves, — that  neither 
Quarrel  enforce  captivity,  nor  we. 
Yielding  up  you  that  sit  as  suppUants 
Of  these  our  gods,  bring  down  to  dwell  with  us 
The  grievous  Power  that  visits  all  such  wrong. 
The  fell  Destroyer,  who  delivereth  not 
Even  the  dead  in  Hades.     Said  I  well  ? 
Is  there  not  need  of  soul-preserving  thought  ? 


4 1 8-449]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  15 

Cho.  Take    thought    for    piety,    take   thought    for 
right;  I  1 

Befriend  us  with  true  care. 
Give  not  us  over  to  despair. 
Who,  driven  from  far  with  rude  enforced  flight, 
Make  to  thy  gods  our  prayer  ! 

See  me  not  dragged  a  captive  from  this  seat,       I  2 
Of  deities  manifold  the  worshipped  shrine  ! 
Let  not  the  men  prevail !     O  absolute  lord, 

Their  insolence  abhorred 

Discover  and  defeat. 

Beware  of  wrath  divine. 

Endure  not  thou  to  see  thy  suppliant  led  II 1 
From  sanctuary  along, 
(0  deed  of  impious  wrong  !) 
Held  by  the  fine-woven  harness  of  my  head, 
With  ruffian  hands  and  strong  ! 

Whichever  cause  thou  favourest  in  thy  choice,    II  2 
Whate'er  the  act  thou  wiliest,  there  awaits 
Thy  children  and  thy  house  like  trial  of  war. 
Such  truth  oracular 
Whispers  the  so"VTan  voice 
Of  Zeus,  and  the  ancient  Fates. 

King.  I  have  now  bethought  me,  and  it  comes  to 
this — 
The  ship  of  reason  to  this  strand  is  borne — 
A  mighty  war  impends,  inevitable. 
With  these  or  those.     The  cable  holds  my  bark 
To  that  firm  mooring-place,  and  there  she  's  fixed. 
No  end  is  possible  without  distress. 
Yet  far  from  equal  are  the  issues  here. 
For  though  a  house  be  ravaged  of  its  store. 
Till  poverty  and  misery  overflow, 
Zeus,  lord  of  produce,  may  compensate  all ; 
And  though  a  tongue  may  shoot  forth  bolts  undue, 
To  stir  men's  spleen  and  gall  their  inmost  soul. 
Yet  words  may  salve  the  wound  that  words  have  made. 
But  bloodshedding  'twixt  kinsmen  to  prevent 


16  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [450-480 

Full  many  a  victim  slain  in  sacrifice 

To  many  gods  were  meet,  to  heal  that  harm. 

Religiously  I  must  avoid  such  strife. 

Let  me  be  skilless  rather  than  prove  wise 

For  mischief !     May  the  event  bely  my  dread  ! 

Cho.  Hear  the  conclusion  of  our  patient  plea. 

King.  Speak  on.     Your  words  will  not  escape  mine 
ear. 

Cho.  Our  robes  are  girded  with  these  twisted  bands. 

King.  Beseeming  well  your  feminine  estate. 

Cho.  a  rich  resource,  be  sure,  is  ours  herein. 

King.  What    utterance    now  will    pass    thy  lips  ? 
Say  on. 

Cho.  If  to  this  troop  thou  promise  not  sure  aid ■ 

King.  What  riddance   will   your  girdles   bring   to 
pass  ? 

Cho.  Strange  offerings  shall  adorn  this  sanctuary. 

King.  A    riddling    sentence !     Plainly   speak    your 
mind. 

Cho.  We  will  hang  ourselves  forthwith  on  these  your 
gods. 

King.  Ye  cut  my  heart,  as  with  a  scourge. 

Cho.  Ay,  now 

Thou  understandest  my  words  ;   I   have  made  thee 
see. 

EliNO.  In  vain  I  wrestle  with  this  perilous  case. 
'Tis  troublous  every  way.     The  rising  flood 
Of  teeming  sorrows  rushes  to  oerwhelni. 
I  am  plunged  in  seas  of  woe  unfathomable. 
And  find  no  harbourage,  no  further  shore. 
If  I  shall  fail  to  satisfy  j'our  need. 
Ye  threaten  me  with  horrors  unsurpassed, 
Pollution  irredeemable.     But  if 
Before  our  ramparts  I  stand  forth  and  fight 
To  the  utterance  with  Aegyptus'  sons,  your  kin, 
A  dear  expense,  bitter  to  bear,  were  this. 
That  men  for  women's  sake  should  stain  the  ground 
Yet  needs  must  I  revere  the  wTath  of  Zeus 
The  suppliant's  God.     'Tis  man's  supremest  fear. 
Thou,  reverend  sir,  father  of  these  pure  maids, 


481-509]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  17 

Take  in  thine  arms  those  wool-wreathed  boughs,  and 

lay  thein 
Before  another  sanctuary,  where  all 
The  dwellers  in  our  city  may  behold 
These  visible  tokens  of  j'our  sore  distress. 
Lest  my  report  of  you  should  pass  for  riOught. 
This  people  love  to  cavil  at  their  king. 
It  may  be,  those  who  see  your  suppliant  guise 
May  feel  compassion,  and  the  folk  at  large 
Be  touched  w;th  kindne.-rS  fof  you.     None  so  cold 
Whose  heart  inclines  not  to  befriend  the  weak. 
Dan.  We  have  gained  one  point,  much  valued,  to 

have  found 
In  thee  a  patron  so  considerate. 
But  send  an  escort  of  the  natives  here 
To  point  my  way,  and  make  mine  errand  known. 
That  I  may  find  the  altars  'fore  those  fanes 
Where  dwell  your  state's  protecting  deities. 
And  through  your  streets  may  pass  without  annoy. 
Our  garb  is  foreign  here,  and  strange  our  mien. 
Nile  fosters  not  like  forms  with  Inachus. 
Take  heed  security  breed  not  dismaj^ 
Friend  hath  slain  friend  ere  now,  not  knowing  him. 
King  {to  the  attendants).  Go  ye,  for  well  the  stranger 

speaks,  and  guide 
His  feet  to  our  mid-city's  altar-places, 
The  dwellings  of  our  gods.     Nor,  as  ye  go. 
Speak  much  to  those  ye  meet,  while  ye  conduct 
This  mariner  whom  here  we  suppliant  found. 

[Exit  Danaus 
Cno.  Our  sire  hath  your  commands.     Then  let  him 

go. 
What  shall  we  do  ?    Where  dost  thou  'point  us  safety? 
King.  Leave   there   those   tokens   of  your   trouble 

past. 
Cho.  These  boughs  ?     I  obey  thy  gesture  and  thy 

words. 
King.  Now  turn  thy  steps  along  this  level  ground. 
Cho.  How  should  unhallowed  ground  protect  my 

head  ? 


18  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [510-542 

King.  Though  your  pursuer  have  wings,  we  will 
not  yield  you. 

Cho.  But  if  he  have  fangs  sharper  than  serpents' 
teeth  ? 

King.  Speak  gently.     No  harsh  word  was  spoken 
to  thee. 

Cho.  Forgive  the  impatience  of  a  heart  that  fears. 

King,  a  woman's  fears  are  ever  uncontrolled. 

Cho.  Thy  words  are  comforting.     So  be  thy  deeds. 

King.  Your  father  will  not  leave  you  long  forlorn. 
I  go  to  assemble  all  this  populace. 
And  turn  the  public  mind  to  a  friendly  mood  ; 
To  instruct  thy  father,  too,  what  things  to  say. 
Remain  ye,  therefore,  and  entreat  with  prayer 
This  country's  gods  to  grant  you  your  desires : 
To  compass  which  event  I  now  depart. 
May  smooth  Persuasion  and  Success  go  with  me  ! 

[Exit 
Chorus. 
O  thou  of  blessed  gods  most  blest,  I  1 

Of  dignities  the  topmost  crest, 
Zeus,  lord  of  lords,  amidst  thy  glory,  hear  ! 
Let  that  be  done  which  calms  our  fear. 
Hate  and  avert  the  crime  the  men  would  do. 
And  where  those  purpling  waves  appear, 
Whelm  the  accursed  bark  rowed  by  the  swarthy  crew. 

Renew  the  tale  of  kindness  past  I  2 

And  let  the  fond  remembrance  last. 

The  women  here  are  offspring  of  thy  love. 

When  touching  lo  from  above 

Thou  didst  create  our  lineage  with  thy  hand. 

May  we  from  hence  no  more  remove, — 

No  longer  aUens  here,  but  inmates  of  the  land. 

Exiled  from  Egypt,  I  come  back  II  1 

To  find  the  old  familiar  track. 

'Twas  here  the  myriad-eyed  one  gazed 

On  our  poor  mother  while  she  grazed 

And  cropped  the  flowery  herbage  sweet. 

'Twas  hence  with  brize- bewildered  feet 


543-576]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  19 

She  passed  through  many  a  mortal  race, 
Till,  where  the  continents  divide. 
She  measured  the  foredestined  space. 
And  crossed  the  limit  of  the  billowy  tide. 

Through  Asia  rushing,  and  through  all  II  2 

Rude  Phrygia's  region  pastoral, 

She  passed  the  Mysian  citadels 

Of  Teuthras,  and  the  Lydian  dells, 

Cilician  mounts,  Pamphylian  fields. 

Streams,  whose  perennial  water  yields 

Infinite  wealth, — through  all  she  fares. 

And  through  the  land  of  countless  gain. 

The  land  abounding  with  strange  wares. 

The  land  of  Aphrodite,  rich  in  grain. 

Till,  'neath  the  winged  drover's  goad  III  1 

Traversing  all  that  devious  road, 

She  reached  the  life-maintaining  mead 

That  southern  snow-storms  feed, 

Favoured  of  Zeus,  where  wandering  all  abroad, 

Nile's  healthful  waters  banish  every  bane. 

Unto  that  mystic  plain 

Comes  Hera's  bacchanal,  brize-distraught. 

Transformed,  dismantled,  shamed,  o'erwrought 

With  weariness  and  still-returning  pain. 

The  mortal  inmates  of  that  land  HI  2 

With  heart  appalled  and  visage  wanned 

Were  portent-stricken  and  sore  amazed. 

As  on  that  form  they  gazed. 

And  now  the  maiden,  now  tiie  heifer  scanned, 

Strange  bovine  nature  intermixed  with  human. 

Part  cow,  part  tender  woman. 

Who  then  might  soften  the  wild  distress 

Of  lo's  brize-driven  wandering  loneliness. 

Or  make  her  tale  of  tribulation  less  ? 

*Twas  Zeus,  the  lord  of  inexhaustible  years :       IV  1 

He  calmed  her  alien  fears. 
And  by  a  touch  restored  her  injured  mind. 
Rude  violence,  by  harmless  power  confined. 


20  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [577-609 

Vexes  no  more  ;  the  breath  of  god  dispels 
Her  stony  trance,  and  once  again  there  wells 
From  honour's  fount  the  tender  grace  of  tears. 
Of  Zeus  the  genuine  breed  then  came  to  Earth. 
And  heavenly  was  that  unoffending  birth 
Of    him    whose    line    hath    prospered    brightly    and 
long,  IV  2 

Till  earth  takes  up  the  song, 
'  Of  Zeus  the  authentic  race  is  here  displayed. 
The  genial  issue  of  the  wandering  maid.' 
Who  else  could  quell  the  overmastering  league 
Of  troubles  raised  by  Hera's  wild  intrigue  '1 
To  whom  save  Zeus  belongs  undoing  of  wrong  ? 
The  deed  was  his.  and  his,  believe  it  well, 
The  race  of  Epaphus  whereof  we  tell. 

To  whom  then  of  the  gods  with  holier  right        V  1 
Should  I  appeal  to  aid  me  with  his  might  ? 
With  his  own  hand  he  planted  erst  the  seed 
Wherefrom  we  sprang ;  author  of  every  deed, 
Eldest  artificer,  giving  to  wisdom  speed. 

Not  hastening  work  beneath  a  master's  eye,         V  2 
As  one  who  on  a  mightier  doth  rely. 
Or  lowly  worshippeth  a  lordlier  throne : 
With  Zeus  alone,  thought,  word,  and  deed  are  one ; 
WTiate'er  he  wills,  he  say'th,  and  when  he  say'th,  'tis 
done. 

Re-enter  Danaus. 

Dan.  Be  of  good  cheer,  my  daughters.     All  is  well. 
This  people's  heart  is  sound.     Their  votes  are  given. 

Cho.  Hail,   reverend  sire  !     Right  welcome  is  thy 
news — 
But  say,  what  bearing  hath  the  full  decree. 
Or  in  what  sense  those  many  hands  were  shown. 

Dan.  Unanimous  was  the  Argi\o  folk's  resolve, 
Reviving  youth  within  mine  aged  frame. 
The  bright  sky  bristled  with  right  hands  in  air, 
From  that  great  crowd,  confirming  this  decree  : 
That  we  should  share  the  freedom  of  their  soil. 


610-640]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  21 

And  none  should  seize  or  claim  our  persons  here  ; 

No  indweller,  no  stranger  from  afar, 

Should  take  us  captive ;  and,  if  force  were  tried,  ^ 

Whoever  of  these  townsmen  rushed  not  forth 

To  work  our  rescue,  should  be  visited 

With  public  outlawry,  and  banishment. 

So  mightily  prevailed  the  royal  word 

Of  King  Pelasgus,  pleading  on  our  side. 

And  warning  all  his  people,  ne'er  to  raise 

The  wrath  of  Zeus,  the  suppliant's  friend,  to  grow 

And  magnify  hereafter,  lest  pollution 

Twofold,  involving  home  and  foreign  mischief, 

Should  foster  here  immedicable  harm. 

That  heard,  no  summoner  was  needed  there, 

But  the  Argive  host  with  one  consent  upheld 

Their  willing  hands,  voting  that  this  should  be. 

And  all  the  assembly  of  Pelasgian  men 

Gave  heed  to  much  persuasive  argument 

To  the  same  end.     Which  Zeus  hath  ratified. 

Chorus. 
Bless  we  the  Argives,  and  repay 
Their  blessings  with  a  kindly  lay. 

Zeus  of  strangers,  see  it  done  ! 
Strangers,  we  implore  thy  throne  : 
Let  the  truth  our  lips  proclaim 
Swell  the  glory  of  thy  name. 

Hear  the  blessings  now  we  pour  I  1 

From  the  heart's  abundant  store 

On  your  issue,  gods  of  Greece  ! 

Ares,  from  thy  madness  cease  1 

Make  not  this  Pelasgian  town. 

Burned  with  fire,  to  crumble  down  ! 

Lover  of  the  lyreless  cry. 

That  in  regions  far  and  nigh 

Mowest  down  the  human  grain 

Dripping  with  the  gory  rain  ! 

Spare  the  folk  that  showed  us  ruth, 

Passing  votes  of  mercy  and  truth, 


22  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [641-675 

Reverencing  this  piteous  throng. 
Through  the  grace  of  Zeus  made  strong ; 

Siding  not  with  man-made  laws,  I  2 

Scorning  not  the  woman's  cause. 

But  regarding  in  their  thought 

That  which  none  may  set  at  nought. 

Nor  resist,  and  flee  from  bane. 

Who  may  stand  the  crushing  strain 

Of  pollution  on  his  home 

Pressing  with  the  weight  of  doom  ? 

These  revere  the  suppliant  maids 

WTiom  the  Lord  of  mercy  aids ; 

They  revere  the  strain  divine 

Mingled  with  our  ancient  line. 

Pure,  then,  shall  their  altars  prove. 

Pleasing  to  the  gods  above. 

With  these  olive-boughs  arrayed,  II  1 

Sheltered  'neath  their  sacred  shade. 

Peal  we  forth  our  heartfelt  prayer. 

Thrilling  through  the  liberal  air. 

May  no  plague  your  people  thin. 

Ne'er  may  faction  from  within 

Stain  your  streets  with  homebred  strife ; 

Still  be  spared  all  youthful  life  ; 

Let  not  Arcs  cull  your  flower 

With  his  homicidal  power, — 

Ares,  unresisted  rover. 

Aphrodite's  restless  lover. 

Let  old  men  and  matrons  bend  II  2 

Where  thrice-hallowed  priests  attend 

The  altar,  heaped  with  fragrant  gifts. 

That  clear  flame  to  Heaven  uplifts, — 

So  be  blest  your  aftertime. 

Honouring  all  the  Powers  sublime. 

Him  in  chief,  whose  hoary  name 

Still  protects  the  stranger's  claim. 

Ever  from  each  bounteous  field 

Let  boon  Earth  fresh  tribute  yield ; 


676-705]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  23 

Artemis  with  genial  love 

Watch  your  labouring  wives  above. 

Plague  that  withers  manly  might  III  1 

Come  not  near,  your  town  to  affright, 

Making  all  your  country  rife 

With  a  worse  than  martial  strife. 

Void  of  music,  fraught  with  tears, 

Noisy  with  a  nation's  fears. 

Spreading  misery  and  alarm  ; — 

Fell  diseases'  dismal  swarm 

Settle  far  from  every  head 

That  is  laid  on  Argive  bed. 

Great  Apollo  look  with  ruth 

Upon  all  your  tender  youth  ! 

Zeus  at  every  season  bless  III  2 

Your  rich  land  with  fruitfulness  ; 

As  they  graze  beside  the  stream 

May  your  flocks  with  eanlings  teem  ; 

StiU  may  every  worshipped  Power 

Help  you  at  the  needful  hour, — 

Most  of  all  the  heavenly  Muse. 

Let  your  poets  pay  their  dues 

At  each  shrine  with  songs  of  worth. 

Purely  let  the  voice  give  forth 

Every  reverence-breathing  word, 

With  the  lyre  in  apt  accord  ! 

Let  your  rulers  hold  in  awe  IV  1 

High  degree  and  holy  law. 

Swaying  with  far-sighted  skill 

Toward  wise  aims  the  popular  will. 

Ere  they  arm  the  war's  array 

For  the  rash  contentious  fray. 

Let  them  fair  proposals  bring 

To  remove  the  offence's  sting. 

Healing  what  their  foes  resent, 

With  unarmed  arbitrament. 

Let  them  honour,  as  of  old,  IV  2 

All  the  Gods,  your  town  that  hold. 


24  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [706-738 

With  processions  laurelled  bright, 
And  the  oxen-slaughtering  rite. 
Glory  to  forefathers  given 
Keeps  the  great  behest  of  Heaven. 
Third  on  Justice'  roll  doth  stand 
That  infallible  command, — 
Justice,  highest  name  on  earth. 
Worshipped  as  of  heavenly  worth, 

Dan,  Dear  daughters,  I  commend  that  pious  hymn. 
But  hear,  and  start  not,  while  your  father  tells 
Unwelcome  tidings,  unforeseen  and  strange. 
From  this  high  platform  where  ye  suppliant  knelt 
I  see  the  ship.     'Tis  theirs  bej^ond  a  doubt, — 
Hull,  sails,  and  tackling  unmistakable. 
And  prow  with  eyes  that  scour  the  forward  way, 
While  she  obeys  too  surely,  being  our  foe. 
The  paddle  at  her  stern  directing  her. 
And  now  the  men  on  board  are  plain  to  see. 
Dark  limbs  appearing  out  of  garments  white. 
Nor  less  remarkably  her  convoy  swarms 
With  smaller  craft  around  her.     She  herself 
Their  leader,  now  approaching  land,  hath  lowered 
Her  canvas,  and  all  hands  are  at  the  oars. 
In  quietness,  then,  and  modest  confidence 
Attend,  and  cling  to  these  protectors  here, 
Till  I  bring  human  advocates  to  aid. 
Some  herald  or  commission  may  arrive 
And  claim  your  persons  as  of  right.     But  fear  not. 
Let  them  not  startle  you.     This  shall  not  be. — 
Yet  lest  our  help  should  be  delayed,  'tis  well 
Ye  lose  not  hold  of  this  Divine  defence. 
Be  not  afraid.     Contemners  of  the  gods 
Shall  pay  their  quittance  at  the  appointed  hour. 

Cho.  Father,  I  quake  with  fear.     The  swift-winged 
bark 
Arrives.     The  time  of  respite  runneth  short. 
I  am  terrified.     What  profits  my  rough  flight — 
My  wildered  course  by  sea  and  land  ?     My  sire, 
I  famt  with  dread. 


739-769I  THE  SUPPLIANTS  25 

Dan.  The  Argive  men's  re.=oIve 

Was  final.     They  will  fight  in  your  behalf. 
Fear  not,  my  daughters,  for  I  know  that  well. 

Cho.  Abandoned  are  Aegyptus'  maniac  brood. 
Insatiate  still  in  war.     Thou  know'st  'tis  true. 
In  that  firm-timbered  black-eyed  bark  they  come, 
Rowed  by  dark  throngs  of  warriors  and  impelled 
With  headlong  rage. 

Dan.  But  they  shall  find  on  shore 

Full  many  to  resist,  whose  arms  are  tanned 
To  tough  consistence  in  the  midday  heat. 

Cho.  Nay,    leave    me    not    alone,    I    entreat    thee, 
sire. 
A  woman  by  herself  is  nothing-worth, 
Strengthless  for  battle, — and  the  men  that  come 
Are  savage-thoughted,  crafty-skilled,  impure 
And  impious  as  the  raven,  that  regards 
Nor  hearth  nor  altar. 

Dan.  Then  the  gods  abhor  them 

No  less  than  thou  ; — that  makes  for  us,  my  daugliters. 

Cho.  No  reverence  for  the  blessed  gods,  no  fear 
Even  of  yon  trident,  will  deter  them,  father. 
Or  make  them  hold  their  hands  from  seizing  us. 
Madly  intent  are  they  v/ith  godless  fury. 
Frenzied  with  insolence,  ignoring  Heaven, 
Like  dogs  for  boldness. 

Dan.  But  lean  wolves,  'tis  said, 

Are  mightier.     Wheat-flour  beats  papyrus-pith. 

Cho.  The  wildest  beast  hath  not  such  vehemence 
Of  impious  valour  as  those  vain-proud  men. 
Beware  ! 

Dan.         Not  swiftly  speeds  the  marshalling 
Of  troops  from  shipboard.     And  ere  that  is  tried, 
Behoves  to  moor,  and  bring  away  on  shore 
The  hawsers,  for  security.     All  this 
Takes  time  ;  nor  all  at  once  are  men  assured 
Who  tend  a  vessel  by  a  foreign  strand. 
That  anchors  will  not  drag,  but  safely  hold, — 
Least  when  the  shore  they  find  is  harbourless, 
And  night-ward  wends  the  westering  sun.     Dark  night 


26  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [770-S07 

Still  genders  pangs  in  the  wise  pilot's  breast. 
Their  army  cannot  well  even  disembark 
Until  their  ship,  safe-moored,  in  comfort  rides. 
Fear,  if  ye  must,  but  lean  on  heavenly  succour. 

.    _ till  I 

Succeed  in  bringing  help.     Though  I  be  old, 
No  ineffective  summoner  this  town 
Shall  find  me.     For  discourse  I  am  lusty  and  young. 

[Exit 

Chorus. 

Mother  of  mountains.  Earth,  divinely  great,  I  1 

Hath  the  Apian  land  a  cave  to  cover  me  ? 

Some  dark  recess,  whereunto  we  may  flee  ? 

Would  I  might  change  my  state 

To  coal-black  smoke,  neighbouring  the  clouds  on  high. 

Or  spiring  dust,  that  wingless  I  might  fly. 

Vanishing  like  an  arrow  in  the  sky. 

And    there    might    perish !       The    men's    passionate 
mind  1 2 

Advances  unavoidably.     We  quail 
At  our  sire's  tidings  : — our  dark  spirits  fail  ! 
Ah  !  would  that  we  might  find 
Some  hanging  noose  to  give  us  violent  death 
Ere  tainted  with  contaminating  breath  ! 
Ere  then,  may  Hades  rule  our  spirits  beneath  ! 

O  for  a  seat  on  some  ethereal  height,  TI  1 

Where  snow  congeals  from  clouds  that  wandering  float. 
Or  some  smooth  crag,  forsaken  by  the  goat, 
Lone-thoughted,  overhanging,  far  from  sight. 
The  vulture's  perch,  to  witness  my  deep  fall. 
Escaping  from  this  wedlock's  hated  thrall ! 

Dogs,  and  wild  birds  that  wing  the  region  there  112 
Might  take  us  for  their  unresisting  spoil ; 
For  death  sets  free  from  lamentable  coil 
Of  cureless  evils.     Death  prevents  despair. 
Death  before  marriage  be  my  lot !     No  road 
Frees  me,  but  one  straight  path,  to  Death's  abode. 


808-835]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  27 

Then  lift  your  wailing  voices  high.  111  1 

And  let  your  prayers  assail  the  sky. 

The  power  that  brings  my  fated  end 

Alone  can  free  me  or  befriend. 

Great  Father,  let  thy  righteous  glance 

Visit  the  proudly  armed  advance 

Of  violence  thou  hatest  sore. 

View  their  unblest  battalions  o'er, 

And  have  regard  to  us  who  pray 

To  thee,  whose  rule  all  lands  obey. 

O  Zeus,  the  intolerable  pride  III  2 

Of  that  male  offspring  WTCst  aside ! 
Aegyptus'  sons,  arrived  from  far, 
Hound  me  with  noise  of  wanton  war. 
With  violent  hands  they  seek  to  clutch. 
And  taint  us  with  unnatural  touch. 
But  over  aU  our  human  ways 
The  beam  of  thy  great  balance  sways. 
'What  mortal  business  without  thee 
Attains  assured  finahty  ? 

Ah  !  ah  ! 

The  snatcher  comes,  the  shipmate  of  the  men. 

He  stalks  along  the  strand 

To  take  me  from  the  la.nd 

Even  as  his  lords  have  planned — 
Kidnapping  snatcher,  thou  shalt  weary  ere  then  ! 

Sa  !  Sa  !     Even  so  !     Again 
f  I  raise  my  doleful  strain  ; 

Seeing  the  forceful  prelude  close  at  hand, 
I  Commencement  of  their  violence  and  my  pain. 

I  O  wala  wa  ! 

Fly  to  the  refuge,  fly ! 
I  Their  looks  of  barbarous  pride 

t  At  sea  were  hard  to  abide  ; 

I  They  fright  us  now  on  shore. 

Thy  shelter  we  implore. 

Lord  of  this  sanctuary  ! 


23  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [836-S65 

Enter  Herald. 
Her.  Hark  to  my  warning,  hark  ! 
Betake  you  to  the  bark 
With  all  your  swiftest  speed. 
Else  comes  the  ruthless  deed. 
Hair  pulled  out  by  the  root. 
Branding  of  hand  and  foot. 
Much  blood  in  slaughter  shed 
And  severing  of  the  head. 
If  curses  aught  ye  heed. 
Speed  to  the  galley,  speed  ! 

Cho.  O  would  that  in  the  briny  fJood  I  1 

Thou  and  thy  lords  of  impious  mood, 
And  that  proud  ship  with  timbers  strong 
Had  foundered  the  mad  waves  among  ! 

Her.  Down  to  the  vessel  hes 
Your  pathway :  then  be  wise — 
Give  heed  to  force,  and  leave 
Rash  counsels  that  deceive  ; 
Forsake  those  seats  and  come  I 
The  bark  shall  bear  you  home. 
This  Heaven-observing  town 
Smiles,  as  we  seize  our  ovra. 

Cho.  No  !     Nevermore  lot  me  behold  I  2 

Those  fertile  waters,  loved  of  old. 
That  save  the  labour  of  the  steer. 
And  nourish  hfe,  to  mortals  dear. 
Through  rich  supply  of  genial  food. 
Filling  their  veins  with  bounding  blood  ! 

Hee.  Full  powers  to  command  you  are  mine. 
From  that  pedestalled  shrine 
Come  away ;  ye  shall  soon  be  afloat. 
Will  you,  nill  you,  embarked  in  my  boat. 
Each  one  I  will  forcibly  hale 
By  the  folds  of  her  veil, 
Evicted  with  violent  hand 
From  your  seats  in  this  land. 


866-903]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  29 

Cho.  O  would  that  thou  with  thy  design  II  1 

Ivlight  perish  in  the  weltering  brine. 
All  wildly  by  the  wandering  breeze 
Wafted  adrift  o'er  spacious  seas. 
To  where  the  shoaling  currents  are 
That  chafe  the  Sarpedonian  bar  ! 

Her.  Howl  as  thou  wilt,  and  rend  thy  robes,  and 
call 
Tliy  gods  to  aid  !     Thou  shalt  not  overskip 
The  limiting  bulwark  of  Aegyptus'  bark. 
Ay,  howl  and  cry,  out-wailing  thy  distress  ; 
Thou  hast  thy  name  conjoined  with  wretchedness. 

Cho.     Too  loud  thine  insults,  child  of  Nile,      II  2 
Swart  monster,  biped  crocodile  1 
Yawning  with  terrors  manifold. 
With  serried  jaws  agape  and  bold! 
l\Iay  He  that  reared  thee  turn  aside 
And  bring  to  nought  thy  ruthless  pride  ! 

Her.  Speed  to  yon  twy-prowed  bark,  I  bid  you 
speed  ! 
Else,  if  ye  loiter,  any  one  of  you. 
Reverence  defied,  I'll  drag  you  by  the  hair. 

Cho.  Father,  the  help  of  sanctuary  proves  naught, 

III  1 
Vain  our  fond  trust ;  he  drags  us  all  the  same  ; 
That  stalking  spider,  that  dark  hideous  dream. 
Woe  is  me  !     0  mother  Earth,  attend  our  cry ; 
Bid  back  our  fear  !     Zeus,  sire,  Earth's  son,  O  hear ! 

Her.  I  fear  not  any  gods  that  hold  this  ground — 
They  nursed  me  not,  nor  led  me  on  to  age. 

Cho.  To  grip  me  he  assays,  the  two-legged  serpent ! 

He  holds  me  like  an  adder  with  sharp  fangs. 
Woe  is  me  !     O  mother  Earth,  attend  our  cry  ! 
Bid  back  our  fear  !     Zeus,  sire.  Earth's  son,  O  hear  ! 

Her.  Come  to  the  ship,  or  eke,  in  spite  of  pity, 
Your  broideries  shall  be  rent.     Come  on  !     Refuse  not ! 


30  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [904-935 

Cho.  Lords  of  the  land,  I  am  overpowered.     Come 

near  ! 
Her.  Lords  of  your  life  full  many  shall  ye  soon 
Behold,  Aegyptus'  sons.     Not  lordless  ye  ! 

Cho.  We  are  undone,  O  kinji !     Our  hopes  are  gone. 
Hek.  I'll  pluck  you  off  by  the  long  locks  and  drag 
you. 
Since  ye  are  dull  in  hearkening  to  my  words. 

Re-enter  King  Pelasgtjs. 

King.  Sirrah  !  what  dost  thou  ?     What  imports  the 
pride 
Thou  show'st  in  scorning  this  Pelasgian  land  ? 
Dost  thou  suppose  we  have  nought  but  women  here  ? 
Flout' st  thou  Hellenes  with  thy  barbarous  tongue  ? 
Much  folly  and  no  judgement,  sure,  is  thine. 

Hee.  Tell  me  wherein  I  have  erred  against  the  right  ? 

King.    Thou  knowest  not  how  a  stranger  should 
behave. 

Her.  a  stranger,  who  hath  found  what  he  had  lost  ? 

King.  To  what  power  here  didst  thou  prefer  thy 
claim  ? 

H.  To  Hermes,  mightiest  patron  of  such  quest. 

King.  He  is  a  god,  and  thou  profanest  the  gods. 

Her.  Nile,  and  the  gods  of  Nile,  are  those  I  worship. 

EoNG.  Thou  set'st  at  nought  the  gods  of  Argos, 
then. 

Her.  If  any  rescue,  well !     If  not,  I  take  them. 

King.  Withdraw  thy  hand,  else  quickly  shalt  thou 
rue. 

Her.  Small  courtesy  hves  in  the  words  I  hear. 

King.  I  yield  not  courteous  terms  to  sacrilege. 

Her.  Aegyptus'  sons  shall  learn  it  from  my  mouth. 

King.  I  take  no  charge  of  what  they  learn  from  thee. 

Her.  Yet  let  me  know,  that  I  may  tell  more  clearly. 
As  it  beseems  a  herald  should  report 
Each  fact  in  full.     What  must  I  say  ?     By  whom 
Robbed  of  this  band  of  female  cousinship 
Do  I  return  ?     'Tis  Ares  will  decide 
This  cause,  not  heard  in  court,  nor  shall  a  bribe 


936-971]  THE  SUPPLIANTS  31 

Take  up  the  quarrel,  but,  or  ere  it  closa. 

Full  many  a  warlike  corpse  shall  stain  the  sod. 

And  many  a  hfe  be  reft  in  agony. 

IvTNG.  Why  tell  my  name  to  thee  ?     Thyself  in  time, 
And  those  companions  of  thy  voyage,  shall  learn  it. 
These  maidens,  if  with  pious  argument 
Thou  gain'st  their  hearty  kind  consent,  thou  mayest 
Freely  take  with  thee.     Such  was  the  decree 
Singly  determined  by  the  popular  voice 
Of  our  whole  city — nevermore  to  yield 
This  female  band  to  violent  attempt. 
That  plank  hath  been  nailed  home,  and  will  not  start. 
Not  graven  on  tablets  was  this  law,  nor  sealed 
Within  papyrus-rolls,  but  in  plain  speech 
Delivered  to  thee  from  a  dauntless  tongue. 
Hear  it,  and  vanish  quickly  from  our  sight. 

Her.  In  those  few  words  thou  hast  proclaimed  a  war. 
May  the  men's  cause  prevail  triumphantly ! 

King.  Men  you  shall  find  our  land's  inhabiters, 
And  men  that  di-ink  not  wine  from  barley  brewed. 

[Exit  Herald 
Ye,  maidens,  with  your  maiden  escort,  pass, 
And  fear  not,  to  our  well-fenced  citadel. 
Deeply  ensconced  in  well-appointed  walls. 
VtTierein  are  many  dwellings  for  my  folk. 
And  mine  are  large,  built  with  no  niggard  hand. 
There  you  may  find  fair  chambers,  well  prepared. 
To  share  with  fellow-lodgers  :  or  ye  may, 
For  this  may  seem  more  gracious,  dwell  apart, 
In  single  rooms.     Cull  therefore,  at  your  choice, 
Whate'er  is  best,  or  most  delights  your  souls. 
I  and  my  citizens,  whose  voice  herein 
This  act  hath  ratified,  protect  you  now. 
Wliat  more  assured  protection  would  ye  crave  ? 

Cho.  Peer  of  the  gods,  Pelasgian  king, 
May  thy  good  deeds  blest  fortune  bring  ! 
Yet  kindly  hitherward  convey 

Danaiis  our  sire,  without  dismay  ;  , 

Since  on  his  prudence  we  rely 
To  appoint  our  dwelling,  and  espy 


32  THE  SUPPLIANTS  [972-1005 

Where  we  may  live  with  auspice  good. 

Amidst  a  gentle  neighbourhood. 

May  all  be  ordered  for  the  best  ! 

Slander  soon  strikes  the  far-come  guest. 

(To  the  female  attendants.)  Ye  then,  dear  maids,  in 

comely  wise, 
Shunning  sharp  tongues  and  curious  ej-es, 
Follow  our  steps  in  order  due. 
Taking  the  place  appointed  you 
By  Danaiis,  when  for  dower  he  gave 
Each  daughter  an  attendant  slave. 

Enter  Danaus 
Dan.  Children,  acknowledge  your  preservers  here. 
Ye  owe  to  the  Argives,  as  to  gods  in  heaven, 
Rich  drink-offerings,  and  prayer  and  sacrifice  ;    . 
Your  saviours  witliout  controvers}'  are  they. 
With  hearts  incensed  against  the  men,  your  kin. 
They  heard  me  tell  of  their  unkindliness. 
And  granted  me  this  escort  of  armed  men 
For  honour  and  defence,  a  priceless  gift. 
Lest  unawares  I  might  be  slain,  and  bring 
A  long-abiding  burden  on  their  soil. 
Respect  me  then  the  more,  since  I  have  won 
This  favour  through  persuasive  friendliness. 
And  take  to  heart  one  more  admonishment 
And  precept  of  your  sire,  that  time  may  prove 
Their  mind,  whom  yet  this  city  doth  not  know. 
Against  an  alien  every  tongue  is  swift 
For  mischief, — easy  'tis  to  blight  with  words. 
Take  heed,  then,  how  ye  soil  my  new-found  honours : 
Such  beauty  as  yours  provokes  the  gaze  of  men. 
Fruit  tender-ripe  is  hard  to  keep  in  safety — 
Man  covets  it,  how  not  ?  and  bird  of  the  air  ; 
And  crawling  creatures  waste  and  ravage  it. 
Cypris  proclaims  the  mellowing  grape  too  soon. 
Bidding  Love  wait  not,  since  the  sap  hath  risen  ; 
And  on  fair  maidens,  fresh  and  delicate, 
Each  passer-by  darts  forth  the  searching  shaft 
Of  longing  glances, — conquered  by  desire. 


1 006-103 3]        THE  SUPPLIANTS  33 

Let  not  this  mar  the  plan  for  which  we  have  toiled 
So  hard,  and  with  our  bark  ploughed  leagues  of  sea, 
Nor  let  us  reap  disgrace,  and  please  my  foes. 
For  habitation,  we  have  choice  twofold — 
Pelasgus'  offer,  and  the  citizens'. 
Exempt  from  charge.     Take  ye  no  thought  for  that, 
But  keep  strict  watch  o'er  this,  your  sire's  behest, — 
More  than  for  life  have  care  for  modesty. 

Leader  of  Cho.  For  other  speed  I  trust  the  lords 
of  heaven. 
But  for  our  vintage,  fear  not,  O  my  sire  ! 
Unless  the  gods  have  some  strange  work  on  hand, 
My  heart  shall  hold  its  path  unswervingly. 

Chorus. 

Hail  with  blessings  as  ye  move  I  1 

All  the  gods  this  town  who  love  ! 

Hail,  great  lords,  that  guard  this  land. 

Ye  that  dwell  along  the  strand 

Erasinus  from  of  old 

With  his  stream  divine  doth  hold. 

Servant-maids,  take  up  the  strain  ; 

Praise  no  more  the  alluvial  plain 

Nourished  by  the  mouths  of  Nile, 

Where  ye  harboured  otherwhile, 

But  Pelasgus'  city  bless 

With  bright  hymns  of  thankfulness. 

Praise  the  streams,  who  at  their  will  I  2 

This  fair  land  with  plenty  fill, 

Making  brilliant  life  abound 

Over  all  the  teeming  ground. 

Artemis,  behold  us  now  ; 

Bend  this  way  thy  virgin  brow ; 

Have  compassion  on  our  band 

Moving  through  the  stranger  land. 

Let  not  forced  wedlock  come, 

Cypris'  unrelenting  doom  : 

Hard  were  such  a  lot  to  bear  ! 

Spare  us,  Cytherea,  spai'e  ! 

117  p 


34  THE  SUPPLIANTS         [i 034-1061 

Halp-Ch.  Yet  we  scorn  not  Cypris'  power,      II  1 
Glory  waits  her  sanctioned  hour ; 
Next  to  Zeus,  with  Hera,  she 
Owns  divinest  majesty. 
Through  her  subtle  wiles  possessing 
Dignity,  with  marriage-blessing. 
Hope  and  longing  wait  upon  her. 
Soft  desires  and  thoughts  of  honour, 
And  the  god  whom  none  deny. 
Mild  Persuasion's  witchery. 
Nor  doth  Cypris  ere  refuse 
Praise  to  each  harmonious  muse  ; 
Numbers  that  melodious  move 
Suit  the  whispering  paths  of  Love. 

Hauf-Ch.  But  my  helpless  exiled  lot,  11  2 

And  the  war  that  comes  unsought. 
Bid  me  shrink  from  Slander's  breath, 
And  appalling  sights  of  death. 
\^Tierefore  was  their  swift  pursuing 
Safely  sped  for  mine  undoing  ? 

Half-Ch.  Wliat  is  fated,  that  shall  be ; 
Zeus'  inscrutable  decree. 
His  vast  mind's  stupendous  plan. 
Ne'er  shall  be  o'erpassed  by  man. 
Even  the  end  we  deprecate, — 
Should  that  marriage  prove  our  fate, — 
Often,  since  the  world  was  human, 
Hath  o'ertaken  many  a  woman. 

1st  Half-Ch.  Zeus  defend  we  should  be  wed   III  1 
To  Aegyptus'  hateful  breed  ! 

2nd  Half-Ch.  Happy  'twere  to  avoid  that  hour. 
But  can  prayers  entreat  His  power  ? 

1st  Half-Ch.  Nay,   thou   know'st  not.     We  have 
said. 

2nd  Half-Ch.  Never  could  my  feeble  skill      III  2 
Sound  the  abysses  of  His  will. 
Boast  not,  then,  beyond  thy  bound. 

1st  Half-Ch.  Give  me  counsel  clear  and  sound. 

2nd  Half-Ch.  Let  the  gods  their  plan  fullil. 


1 062-107 3]         THE  SUPPLIANTS  35 

1st  Halt-Ch.  Sovereign  Zeus,  prevent  the  stroke,  IV 1 
Leave  us  not  to  bear  that  yoke. 
Married  to  the  men  we  hate, — 
Thou  that  freed'st  from  her  sad  fate, 
WTien  she  suffered  overmuch, 
'lo,  with  that  heahng  touch. 
That  with  kindly  force  Divine, 
Founded  our  ancestral  Une. 

2nd  Half-Ch.  To  weak  women  lend  thy  might,  IV  2 
Let  decision  crown  the  right. 
Not  for  happiness  we  pray, 
But  redemption  from  dismay, — 
Least  of  threatening  woes  is  still 
Better  than  the  worst  of  ill. 
To  the  Gods  we  look  for  aid, 
Let  us  be  no  more  afraid. 


THE   PERSIANS 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

Chorus  of  Persian  Elders. 

Atossa. 

3Iessenger. 

Ghost  of  Darius. 

Xebxes. 


The  ScEKE  is  laid  at  Susa,  before  the  palace  of  Xerxes. 
TiiiE — after  the  battle  of  Salamis. 


The  poet,  in  order  to  read  the  lesson  of  the  Persian  War, 
carries  his  Athenian  audience  into  the  heart  of  Persia,  and 
bids  them  imagine  the  grief  and  consternation  wliich  must 
have  reigned  there  after  the  destruction  of  the  royal  fleet. 
The  play  was  produced  in  472  B.C. 

The  Elders,  the  coevals  of  Darius,  express  anxiety  for 
the  fate  of  the  great  armament,  whose  splendour  in  going 
forth  they  describe. 

Atossa,  the  widowed  consort  of  Darius  and  mother  of 
Xerxes,  then  enters,  and  confides  to  them  the  fears  occa- 
sioned by  her  dream.  They  are  trying  to  comfort  her  when 
the  Messenger  arrives,  and  at  once  reports  the  whole  extent 
of  the  calamity.  He  gives  a  fuU  and  clear  description  of 
the  battle  and  the  retreat.  Atossa  is  soul-stricken,  and  the 
Elders  mourn.  But  presently  the  Queen  returns,  and  -with 
offerings  and  incantations  they  raise  the  spirit  of  Darius. 
He  reproves  the  rashness  and  impiety  of  Xerxes,  and  pro- 
phesies of  the  defeat  at  Plataea.  Then  he  vanishes,  and 
the  Chorus  celebrate  the  glories  of  his  reign. 

Xerxes  now  arrives,  and  the  tragedy  concludes  with  the 
mutual  lamentations  of  the  King  and  of  his  aged  counsellors. 

The  lessons  indirectly  inculcated  are  the  dangers  of 
impiety  and  the  blessings  of  constitutional  freedom. 

Aeschylus  was  himself  at  Salamis,  according  to  Pausanias, 
and  his  brother  Ameinias  certainly  took  a  prominent  part 
in  the  engagement.  The  poet's  account  is  therefore,  in  this 
instance,  to  be  preferred  to  that  of  the  historian  Herodotus, 
which  is  difficult  to  reconcile  with  it  at  all  points.  See  an 
essay  on  the  subject  by  Professor  Goodwin,  published  in 
the  Transartinn,f  of  the  Archaeological  Institute  of  America, 
vol.  i.  pp.  236-202. 


THE   PERSIANS 


Chorus. 

When  the  countless  Persian  host 
Left  for  Hellas'  distant  coast. 
We  remained,  a  faithful  band, 
Set  to  guard  the  sacred  land, — 
Old,  and  therefore  counted  meet 
Watchmen  of  this  ancient  seat, 
To  protect  the  hearths  and  homes 
Round  the  ancestral  golden  domes. 
Xerxes'  self,  Dareius'  son, 
Kang  and  lord,  chose  forth  each  one. 
Now  my  prophet-mind  within 
Darkly  mmAng  doth  begin 
For  our  sovereign  lord's  return. 
With  his  gilded  host,  to  yearn. 
All  the  youth  of  Asia  born 
Long  have  left  her  weak  and  lorn. 
With  a  voice  of  piteous  tone 
Cries  she  for  her  strong  ones  gone. 
Nor  to  this  our  citadel 
Runs  or  rides  a  man  to  tell 
Of  the  souls  of  priceless  worth 
W'ho  from  Susa's  walls  went  forth, 
And  Ecbatana's  proud  hold 
And  the  Cissian  fortress  old, — 
Horsemen,  shipmen,  and  the  throng 
That  on  foot  make  armies  strong  : 
Haught  Amistres'  dignity, 
Artaphernes'  chivalry, 
Megabates  high  in  power. 
Bright  Astaspes,  Persia's  flower. 
Kings  that  host  were  marshalling, 
Vassals  of  the  mighty  king. 


iO  THE  PERSIANS  [25-52 

Ordering  troops  in  countless  flow, — 

Masters  of  the  twanging  bow. 

Masters  of  the  bounding  steed. 

Dauntless  hearts  of  glorious  breed ; 

Dreadful  in  their  bright  array. 

Dreadful  in  the  hurtling  fray : 

Artembares  of  the  car. 

Stout  Masistres,  glad  in  war. 

Staunch  Imaeus,  archer  good. 

There  with  Pharandaces  stood. 

And  Sosthanes,  without  peer 

As  a  lusty  charioteer. 

Mighty  Nile's  life-gendering  coast 

Furnished  others  for  that  host, — 

Susiscanes'  self  for  one. 
And  the  Delta's  true-born  son 
Pegastiigon  ;  then  the  power 
Of  old  Memphis'  governour. 
Tall  Arsames  ;    Ariomard, 

Holy  Thebe's  reverend  guard  : 
IMyriad  oarmcn  from  the  mere, 
StTong  to  row  and  skilled  to  steer. 
Then  the  Lydian  multitude 
^Vho  the  peaboard  towns  subdued, 
And  on  all  that  clime  doth  give, 
Delicately  nurtured,  live. 
Joint  commanders  marshal  these, 
Arcteus  and  Metrogathes. 
Sardis  from  her  stores  of  gold 
Sped  those  numbers  manifold. 
Mounted  men  and  chariots  bright 
With  their  steeds,  a  perilous  sight. 
Well  appointed  for  the  war. 
Four  or  six  to  every  car. 
Sacred  Tmolus'  neighbouring  folk 
Threaten  Hellas  with  the  yoke  ; 
Tharybis  and  Mardon  lead. 
Anvils  both,  to  endure  at  need. 
Mysian  lancers  next  come  on  : 
Gold-renowned  Babylon 


53-S6]  THE  PERSIANS  41 

Marshals  then  her  mingled  train, 
Shipmen  from  the  Indian  main. 
And  the  dauntless  tribes  whose  pride 
On  strong  bows  hath  still  relied. 
Last,  from  every  Asian  land 
Troop  the  dagger-bearing  band. 
With  a  dreadful  summoning 
Gathered  by  the  mighty  king. — 
Persia's  flower  of  youth  is  flown, 
Asia  mourns  her  nurslings  gone. 
Longing  wives  and  parents  dear 
Count  the  lingering  hours  with  fear. 

Over  the  firth  and  away  I  1 

To  the  opposite  neighbouring  shore 

That  conquering  host  and  their  leader  have  passed  in 

royal  array. 
On  the  deep  by  the  daughter  of  Athamas  once  ferried 

o'er  ; 
He  hath  bridged  the  sea-ways  with  a  close-framed  flas- 

bound  floor. 
And    the   neck  of  the   prancing   brine  hath  felt    his 

yoke. 

For  the  monarch  his  mandate  spoke,  I  2 

And  innumerous  Asia's  lord 

Drives  over  the  face  of  the  wondering  world  his  divinest 

flock. 
Over  lands  and  seas  in  their  ordered  myriads  poured 
By  the  aid  of  his  war-proof  leaders,  who  ne'er  broke 

word, 
But  obey  their  awful  sovereign,  of  race  divine. 

With  arms  unnumbered,  and  ships  in  an  endless 
line,  II  1 

With  the  basilisk's  murdering  glance  in  his  fierce  dark 
eyes. 

Pursuing  the  furious  course  of  his  Syrian  car. 

He  brings  on  the  spear-famed  folk  overwhelming  war 

And  the  shaft-shower's  fell  surprise. 


42  THE  PERSIANS  [87-125 

What  man  is  of  power,  what  army  of  strength  or 
size,  II  2 

To  stem  that  torrent,  or  bar  the  invincible  wave  ? 
What  strong  sea-wall  shall  hinder  its  onward  course  ? 
Nay,  Persia's  gathered  host  hath  resistless  force. 
And  her  people's  hearts  are  brave. 

By  a  god  erewhile  on  the  Persian  this  task  was 
sent.  III   1 

In  stress  of  the  battle  with  uttermost  hardiment 

To  destroy  fenced  cities,  and  hurtle  with  chariots, 
and  carry  away 

Whole  nations  captive  at  once  in  the  joy  of  the  fray. 

And  they  know,  while  the  fierce  winds  rave  on  the 
whitening  deep.  III  2 

To  look  on  the  forest  of  billows,  and  steadily  sweep 

O'er  the  wide  sea-paths,  as  they  trust  to  the  whistling 
cordage  small 

And  the  man-bearing  slender  strength  of  the  timber- 
wall. 

Yet,  if  a  god  deceive,  IV  I 

What  mortal  man  may  'scape  by  timeliest  care  ? 
WTiose  foot  so  fleet  his  freedom  then  to  achieve, 

Or  to  overleap  that  snare  ? 

With  flattering  smiles  at  first  IV  2 

The  feigning  Fury  trains  the  infatuate  wight 
To  toils  remediless  of  folly  accurst 

And  long  reprieveless  night. 

My  gloom-o'ermantled  heart  is  pricked  with  fear,      V  1 
Ah,  well-a-day  !  lest  the  army  be  destro^'ed. 
And  Susa's  spacious  tovm  shall  sadly  hear 
Her  streets  of  Persian  men  henceforth  are  void. 

Tlien  echoing  her  complaint  the  Cissian  height —      V  2 
*  Ah,  well-a-day  !  '  shall  cry  with  shrill  lament, 
Crowds  of  lone  women  gathering  in  affright. 
With  woful  noise  of  linen  garments  rent. 


126-158]  THE  PERSIANS        .  43 

For  over  the  bridge-like  mole  VI  1 

Binding  Asia  to  Europe,  the  whole  great  host 

Are  gone,  every  valiant  soul  ; 
Horseman,  and  footman,  and  charioteer, 
Like  a  swarm  of  bees  with  their  leader,  their  myriads 
crossed, 

They  have  crossed,  and  left  us  here. 

Grief  fills  the  bereaved  bed  VI  2 

Where  the  bitterly  longed-for  husband  comes  no  more. 

Each  wife  hath  her  trouble  instead  ; 
Pining,  she  utters  her  anxious  moan. 
While  each  doth  her  Persian  warrior  with  wifelike 
tears  deplore 

As  she  bears  her  burden  alone. 

Then  in  this  room  of  ancient  state 
Sit,  Persians,  and  in  grave  debate 
Weave  we  deep  counsel  for  this  need. 
To  know  how  fares  Dareius'  seed, 
Xerxes  our  lord,  whose  royal  race 
Is  shared  by  all  within  this  place  : 
WTiether  the  host  whose  shafts  o'erwhelm 
Or  they  who  bear  the  spear  and  helm 
Have  mastery  in  that  far-off  fight. 
And  oversway  the  opposed  might. 
But  lo,  where  light  of  equal  worth 
To  glances  from  God's  eyes  comes  forth. 
Our  empress-mother  ;  kneel  we  here, 
And  bid  her  hail,  with  loyal  fear. 

Enter  Atossa. 

Princess,  best  of  Persian  women  of  the  deeply  folded 

zone. 
Hail,   our   Zverxes'   reverend   mother,   whom   Dareius 

called  his  own  ! 
Bedmate  of  a  god  of  Persians  ;    mother  of  their  god 

even  now. 
If  the  Genius  of  our  Empire  frown  not  with  distempered 

brow. 


44  THE  PERSIANS  [159-186 

Atossa.  Even  for  that  I  came  among  you,  from  the 

rooms  adorned  with  gold, 
And  the  couch  where  with  Dareius  I  was  wont  to  rest 

of  old. 
Pangs  of  care  are  in  my  bosom  ;    frankly  will  I  tell 

you,  friends. 
Thoughts  whereon  tormenting  terror  for  my  dearest 

hope  attends, 
Lest  the  downfall  of  great  riches  ventured  on  a  perilous 

road 
Overturn  the  wealth  Dareius  gathered  with  the  help 

of  God. 
Whence  a  twofold  thought  unspoken  floats  before  my 

brooding  soul : 
Never  let   me  reverence  riches  where  no  strong   men 

keep  control. 
Nor  be  it  mine  where  riches  are  not  to  light  up  the  lowly 

cot, — 
If  but  I  may  choose  my  fortune, — where  some  poor 

man  bears  his  lot. 
Wealth  is  ours  in  full  contentment ;    yet  we  fear  the 

fall  of  night ; 
For  the  presence  of  its  master  is  the  palace'  only  light. 
WTierefore,  faithful  Persian  elders,  be  my  counsellors 

in  this. 
Since,  relying  on  your  counsel,  I  can  never  act  amiss. 
Cho.  Empress-lady,  know  full  surely,  loyal  is  the  aid 

you  seek  ; 
Never  task,  that  we  have  power  for,  shalt  thou  twice 

have  cause  to  speak. 
At.  I  am  nightly  visited  with  haunting  dreams, 
E'er  since  my  son  levied  that  host  and  went 
To  sack  the  towns  of  the  lAones. 
But  last  night's  dream  was  far  more  clear  than  any. 
I  saw  two  women,  fairly  attired,  the  first 
In  flowing  Persian  robes  ;  in  Dorian  garb 
The  other  ; — on  they  came,  of  stature  tall. 
Beyond  the  measure  of  humanity. 
Faultless  in  beauty,  sisters  of  one  stock. 
But  for  their  native  dwelling-place,  methought, 


186-219]  THE  PERSIANS  45 

The  one  had  Grecian  land  allotted  her, 

The  other,  Barbarous.     Now,  in  my  dream, 

I  saw  them  fall  to  quarrel,  and  my  son 

Perceived  it,  and  would  tame  and  pacify 

Their  anger ;  he  would  yoke  them  to  his  car 

And  place  his  collar  on  their  necks.     Whereat 

The  one  showed  pride  in  such  accoutrement. 

With  docile  paces  curbing  to  the  rein. 

But  the  other  plunged,  and  with  rebellious  force 

Wrecked  the  fine  chariot-gear,  and  tore  away 

From  all  control,  sundering  the  equal  yoke. 

My  son  fell  headlong,  and  Dareius  stood 

Beside  and  pitied  him — whom  Xerxes  seeing 

Began  to  rend  his  garments  in  my  dream. 

Such  were  my  visions  of  the  night.     But  when 

I    had    risen    and    dipped    my    hands    in    the    pure 

fount, 
1  drew  towards  the  altar,  bringing  there 
Such  tribute  as  the  bane-averting  powers 
Delight  in — honey-cake  and  frankincense. 
Then  at  the  hearth  of  Phoebus  I  beheld 
An  eagle  taking  sanctuary, — O  friends, 
My  heart  stood  still  with  terror, — for  a  hawk 
With  double  speed  rushed  after,  and  with  wing 
And  talon  ruffled  him  ;  he  all  the  while 
Cowering  and  submitting.     Dreadful  sight ! 
Dreadful  the  tale,  for  you  that  hear  !     For  know, 
My  son  succeeding  shall  be  more  extolled. 
But  failing,  no  man  here  may  censure  him:  — 
Sovran  no  less,  if  he  return  alive. 

Cho.  Words  of  counsel,  reverend  mother,  neither  to 

affright  thy  heart 
Nor  to  hearten  thee  unduly,  would  we  speak.     Even 

as  thou  art. 
Go  and  pray  the  gods  to  extinguish  aught  that  thou 

hast  seen  of  ill ; 
But  if  aught  of  good  thou  dreamedst,  beg  them  amply 

to  fulfil 
For  thyself  and  seed  that  vision,  and  your  friends  and 

the  Empire  all  ; 


46  THE  PERSIANS  [220-238 

Then  to  Earth  and  Souls  departed  pour  forth  wine, 

and  kindly  call 
On  Dareius,  late  thy  husband,  whom  thou  saw'st  at 

dead  of  night ; 
Bid  him  send  on  thee  and  Xerxes  blessing  from  beneath 

to  light. 
But  whate'er  opposed  to  blessing  by  thy  dream  was 

signified. 
Quenched  with  ineffectual  darkness  let  deep  Earth  for 

ever  hide. 
From  a  loyal  heart  this  counsel  flows  in  rapt  prophetic 

vein. 
Yet  we  augur  from  thy  vision  nought  but  blessing  in 

the  main. 
At.  Surely  with  a  loyal  meaning  to  myself  and  house 

and  son. 
Thus  interpreting  my  vision,  thou  the  auspice  hast 

begun. 
May   fulfilment   crown   thy   presage  !     I,    within   my 

chambers  hid. 
To  the  godij  and  loved  ones  vanished  will  perform  what 

thou  dost  bid. 
Yet  one  doubt,  dear  friends,  resolve   me.      Tell   me, 

Persians,  if  ye  may. 
Whereabout  on  Earth's  wide  bosom  Athens  lies,  as 

travellers  say. 
Cno.  Yonder,  where  our  lord  the  Sun -god  droops 

and  dwindles,  far  away. 
At.  Wherefore  was  my  son  desirous  Athens  'neath 

his  power  to  bring  ? 
Cho.  Hellas  then  in  all  her  borders  would  be  subject 

to  the  King. 
At.  Say;  keeps  Athens  at  her  bidding  such  a  multi- 
tudinous host  ? 
Cno.  Such   a   host,   whose   valiant   prowess   Persia 

knows  of  to  her  cost. 
At.  What  besides  their  men  of  valour  ?     Have  they 

wealth  enough  in  store  ? 
Cho.  Yea,  a  vein  by  nature  treasured  in  their  land, 

of  silver  ore. 


239-267]  THE  PERSIANS  47 

At.  Is  it  strength  to  draw  the  arrow  that  exalts 

them  thus  in  might  ? 
Cho.  Not  the  bow,  but  shielded  armour,  and  the 

spear  for  standing  fight. 
At.  Say,  what  shepherd  sways  their  numbers  ?  who 

their  army's  king  and  lord  ? 
Cho.  They  call  no  man  lord  or  master,  buckle  under 

no  man's  word. 
At.  Then  they  ne'er  will  stand  the  onset  of  a  strange 

invading  foe. 
Cho.  They  destroyed  Dareius'  army,  great  in  number, 

fair  in  show. 
At.  Thought  of  terror  for  the  parents  of  our  warriors 

now  away  ! 
Cho.  All  the  truth  for  good  or  evil  thou  wilt  learn 

without  delay. 
For  there  comes  a  man  whose  running  clearly  proves  his 

Persian  breed. 
And  methinks  some  certain  tidings  travel  on  his  foot 

of  speed. 

Enter  Messenger. 

Messenger.  Imperial  centre  of  vast  Asia, 
Land  of  the  Persians,  port  and  haven  of  wealth, 
What  plenitude  of  glory  at  one  stroke 
Is  perished  !     Persia's  flower  is  fallen  and  gone. 
Ah  me  ! 

'Tis  evil  even  to  herald  evil  news. 
Yet,  Persians,  I  must  open  all  your  grief. 
The  whole  of  the  Asian  army  is  destroyed. 

Cho.  0  bitterness!     0  mischief  dire  and  strange  !  I  1 
Flow,   flow  with  tears,  Persians  !     0  cruel  change  ! 

Mess.  All  yonder  is  undone.     Myself  behold 
The  Ught  of  home  and  safety  beyond  hope. 

Cho.  Have  I  grown  old  to  endure  an  age  of  woe  ?  I  2 

Too  long  I  have  Uved.     O  sore,  unlooked-for  blow  1 
Mess.  Myself  the  eyewitness,  from  no  hearsay  talk, 
I  can  describe,  Persians,  what  ills  befell. 


43  THE  PERSIANS  [268-302 

Cho.  Vv  oe  !  woe  !    woe  !    woe  !     In    vain   from   the 
Asian  coast  11  1 

Went  forth  erewhile  the  myriad-banded  host, 
With  various  aspect,  various  arms. 
To  ravage  Hellas  with  alarms. 
Mess.  Bodies  of  warriors  miserably  slain 
Crowd  Salamis  around,  and  choke  her  bays. 

Cho.  Woe !     woe  !     woe !     woe  !     To    think    that, 
crimson-dyed,  II  2 

The  dear-loved  limbs,  tossed  on  the  unfeeling  tide. 
From  rock  to  jags;ed  rock  are  borne 
At  random  drifted,  rudely  torn  ! 
Mess.  Their   bows   availed  not.     By   the   crashing 
prows 
Of  Grecian  ships  that  host  was  overcome. 

Cho.  Wail  for  that  shout  of  dread  III  1 

O'er  Persians  vanquished — 
The  foemcn's  war-cry,  fraught  with  utter  woe. 
Wail  for  the  host,  whose  warriors  all  lie  low. 

Mess.  Salamis  !  hateful  sound  to  all  who  hear  ! 
Athens  !  what  memories  that  name  recalls  ! 

Cho.  Athens  !  by  foes  abhorred  !  Ill  2 

Clear  memory  doth  record 
How  many  a  blameless  wife  she  reft  at  once 
Of  noble  warrior  spouse  and  warrior  sons. 

At.  I  am   stunned   to  silence  ;    for  such  weight  of 
woe 
BafHes  expression,  making  question  dumb. 
Yet  god-appointed  griefs  must  be  endured. 
Speak  then  in  order,  though  thy  faltering  tongue 
May  quail  in  the  recital, — who  survives. 
And  whom  of  our  commanders  must  we  mourn  ? 
What  warrior,  gifted  with  the  marshal's  wand. 
Hath  fallen  and  left  his  post,  defenceless  now  ? 

Mess.  The  king  yet  living  sees  the  light  of  day. 

At.  a  Ught  of  blessing  for  my  palace  home  ; 
Fair  day-spring  in  mid-darkness  !     Tell  me  more. 

Mess.  But  Artembares,  of  ten  thousand  horse 


303-343]  THE  PERSIANS  49 

Leader  and  lord,  'gainst  the  Silenian  shore 
la  driven  and  dashed,  an  unresisting  bulk. 
And  tall  Dadaces,  his  chief  ofticer. 
Leapt  nimbly  from  the  deck,  smit  with  a  spear. 
Tenagon,  true-born  prince  of  Bactria, 
Round  Aias'  sea-washed  isle  keeps  wandering, 
While  all  about  that  coast,  where  doves  abound, 
Argestes,  Arsames,  Lilaeus,  whirled. 
Butt  the  repellent  earth.     Adeues  there, 
Arcteus,  and  buckler-armed  Pharnuchus  too. 
All  three  from  out  one  self-same  vessel  fell. 
Chrysan  Matallus,  marshal  for  the  king 
O'er  thirty  thousand  swarthy  cavalry. 
Changing  his  Ethiop  hue  to  crimson  there. 
Dyed  his  dark-shadowing  beard  full  red  in  death. 
The  Magian  Arabus,  Bactrian  Artabas, 
As  corpses  hold  the  hard  and  alien  land. 
Amphistreus,  wielder  of  the  toilsome  spear. 
The  valiant  Ariomard,  of  Sardis  mourned. 
And  Mysian  Seisames, — and  Tharabis, 
■Whom  five  times  fifty  stately  ships  obeyed, 
Comeliest  of  L5Tna's  sons,  uncomely  in  death, 
Poor  hapless  corse,  low  lies.     Syennesis 
Amidst  his  prowess  perished  gloriously, 
Commanding  his  Cilician  army  there  ; 
None,  while  he  lived,  more  troublous  to  the  loe. 
So  much  I  have  told  thee  of  our  leaders  fallen  ; 
But  woes  beyond  report  untold  remain. 

At.  Alas,  I  have  heard  enough,  of  griefs  the  crown, 
All  Persia  bowed  with  shame  laments  her  dead. 
But  yet  renew  thy  speech,  and  tell  me,  friend. 
What  number  of  the  Grecian  fleet  so  great 
Emboldened  them  to  meet  our  Persian  men. 
Thus  front  to  front,  and  armed  prow  to  prow  ? 
,     Mess.  For  numbers,  be  assured,  our  Asian  fleet 
Lacked  not  pre-eminence.     The  Greeks  that  day 
Had  ten  times  thirty  ships,  whereof  were  ten 
Renowned  for  swiftness.     Xerxes,  well  I  wot. 
Led  full  a  thousand, — and,  of  noted  speed, 
Two  hundred  sail  and  seven.     From  such  account 


50  THE  PERSIANS  [344-382 

Judge  if  we  seemed  unequal  for  that  fight. 
Some  power  unearthly  swayed  the  balance  there 
To  countervail  advantage  for  our  loss. 
The  gods  themselves  protect  Athena's  town. 

At.  Then  Athens  yet  remains  unsacked,  unrazed  ? 

Mess.  Even  unendangered  while  Athenians  Uve. 

At.  Whence  came  the  encounter  of  the  navies  ?  Tell. 
Which  gave  the  onset  ?     Was't  the  Grecian  fleet  ? 
Or  did  my  son  in  pride  of  strength  begin  ? 

Mess.  From  nothing  mortal,  from  some  angry  god. 
Came  the  beginning  of  that  course  of  woe. 
A  man  of  Hellas,  from  the  Athenian  host. 
Came  and  told  Xerxes  thy  great  son  this  tale : 
'  Let  but  the  shades  of  gloomy  Night  come  o'er, 
The  Hellenes  will  not  bide,  but,  each  his  way, 
Manning  the  benches  with  a  rush,  will  seek 
By  covert  flight  to  save  themselves  alive.' 
Xerxes,  on  hearing  it,  perceiving  not 
The  envy  of  Heaven,  nor  the  Greek  man's  guile, 
Forthwith  to  all  his  admirals  gave  command 
That  when  the  sun  had  ceased  to  burn  the  ground 
With  ardent  beams,  and  darkness  occupied 
The  aetherial  realm,  our  navy's  main  should  then 
In  triple  line  watch  o'er  the  passages 
Of  exit  from  the  strait,  while  other  ships 
All  round  the  isle  of  Aias  should  keep  guard  ; 
And  if  the  Greeks  escaped  from  deatli  and  doom, 
Finding  some  secret  outlet  for  their  fleet. 
The  captains  all  should  lose  their  heads. 

So  spake  he 
With  lusty  cheer,  knowing  nought  of  what  should  be. 
Nor  what  the  gods  had  purposed.     Duly  then 
Obeying  their  lord,  while  supper  was  prepared, 
They  tied  their  oars  to  the  rowlocks. — Daylight  died 
And  night  came  on.     Each  oarsman  held  his  oar, 
Each  armed  warrior  manned  his  post  on  deck, 
And  rank  to  rank  passed  on  the  heartening  word 
From  stem  to  stem  o'  the  war-ship.     Under  weigh 
Each  vessel  held  the  course  appointed  her. 
Whilst  all  the  captains  kept  their  mariners 


382-422]  THE  PERSIANS  51 

r.Ianoeuvring  all  night  long,  a  moving  chain. 

The  night  was  passing,  and  no  sign  was  seen 

Of  Grecian  vessel  bound  for  stealthy  flight. 

But  when  fair  day  with  milk-white  steeds  appeared 

And  covered  all  the  land  with  gladdening  rays, 

Then  rose  from  that  Greek  armament  a  song 

Both  loud  and  musical,  and  the  island  rocks 

Re-echoed,  shouting  battle.     On  our  side 

Fell  disappointment,  wonder  and  dismay. 

Shattering  the  general  hope.     Not  as  for  flight 

Pealed  forth  the  Hellenes  that  high  Paean-hymn, 

But  with  good  courage  rallying  to  the  fray. 

All  yonder  side  blazed  with  the  trumpet's  blare. 

Then  with  one  impulse,  at  the  pilot's  word. 

All  oars  were  dipped  and  smote  the  seething  brine. 

And  swiftly  their  whole  battle  hove  in  view. 

Their  right  wing  in  good  order  led  the  way. 

Then  all  their  navy  followed  ;  then  one  heard 

A  cry  that  grew :  '  Sons  of  Hellenes,  on  ! 

Save  Hellas,  save  your  children,  save  your  wives, 

Your  fathers'  graves,  the  temples  of  their  gods, 

From  slavery  !     Fight,  to  defend  your  all  ! ' 

Then  from  a  sea  of  Persian  voices  roared 

The  counter  clamour.     For  the  hour  was  come. 

Now  ship  smote  ship  with  brazen-pointed  prow. 

A  Greek  began  that  onslaught,  tearing  off 

All  the  ornature  from  a  Sidonian  hull. 

Then  on  and  on,  with  ships  for  spears,  they  fought. 

The  Persian  fleet,  in  a  perpetual  stream, 

At  first  appeared  invincible  ;  but  when 

Their  numbers  in  the  narrows  packed  and  hemmed 

Grew  dense,  they  cracked  their  oarage  in  the  crowd, 

And  smote  each  other  with  their  beaks  of  brass. 

And  none  might  help  his  fellow.     Ware  of  thiLS 

The  Grecian  shipmasters  with  cunning  skill 

Justled  us  round  and  round, — till  hulls  capsized, 

And  all  the  sea  was  hidden  from  our  sight. 

With  wrecks  and  human  carnage  covered  o'er. 

The  cliffs  and  jutting  reefs  were  thronged  witli  dead. 

And  every  vessel  left  in  the  Asian  fleet 


52  THE  PERSIANS  [422-456 

Rowed  hard  for  safety  in  disordered  rout. 

But  they,  Uke  men  who  have  tunnies  in  the  net. 

With  fragments  of  snapped  oars,  splinters  of  wreck. 

Smote,  hacked  and  slew,  that  all  that  reach  of  sea 

With  wailing  cries  and  shouts  of  triumphing 

Resounded,  till  work-baflBing  night  came  down. 

Ten  days  on  end  would  not  suffice  to  tell. 

In  ceaseless  talk,  the  whole  account  of  woe. 

Let  this  suffice  thee  ;  never  heretofore 

Died  in  one  day  so  vast  a  number  of  men. 

At.  Woe,  woe  !  WTiat  floods  of  sorrow  are  unbound 
For  Persia,  and  the  whole  Barbarian  world  1 

JMess.  Know  thou,  the  grief  of  griefs  is  yet  to  come. 
Such  dire  calamity  befell  them  there. 
That  more  than  twice  outweighed  what  hath  been  told. 

At.  What  chance  could  be  more  dire  than  that  w© 
have  heard  ? 
Declare,  what  onslaught  of  calamity 
Came  on  the  host,  transcending  all  that  woe  ? 

Mess.  Wliat   Persian    men   were   there   of   noblest 
strain. 
For  birth  and  valour  of  spirit  most  approved, 
Foremost  in  constant  service  to  the  king, 
Most  cruel  deaths  ingloriously  have  died. 

At.  O  loss  ineffable  !     O  cruel  blow  ! 
How  mean'st  thou  these  have  perished  ?     By  what 
doom  '! 

Mess.  In  front  of  Salamis  an  island  lies. 
Small,  rough  for  moorage,  which  dance-loving  Pan 
Haunts  with  light  hoof,  roving  the  seaward  ground. 
There  planted  Xerxes  that  choice  band,  that  when 
The  broken  foemen  on  that  island  shore 
Sought  refuge,  they  might  take  the  helpless  prey 
And  kill  them,  re-cuing  from  the  narrow  seas 
AMiat  friends  might  drift  there. 

Badly  he  foresaw 
Futurity.     For  when  the  God  had  given 
To  Greece  the  glory  of  that  fight,  forthwith 
In  the  afternoon,  before  the  sun  was  low. 
They  cased  them  in  their  armour,  and  leapt  forth 


457-494]  THE  PERSIANS  63 

From  shipboard,  and  encircled  all  that  isle. 

Our  nobles  knew  not  where  to  turn.     Then  came 

The  crashing  stones  from  stalwart  hands,  then  flew 

The  life-destroying  arrow  from  the  string. 

Last,  in  one  roaring  flood  from  every  side 

They  rushed  and  closed  them  round  with  havoc  dire, 

And  smote  and  hewed  them  limb  from  limb,  until 

Those  princely  lives,  to  a  man,  were  all  extinct. 

Xerxes  beheld  and  groaned,  o'erwhelmed  with  woe. 

A  seat  was  his  commanding  all  the  host, 

A  lofty  mound  near  to  the  open  sea. 

Whence,  with  loud  cries,  and  rending  of  his  robes. 

He  rose  in  sudden  haste,  and  passed  the  word 

For  the  land  army  to  retreat :  then  rushed 

To  headlong  flight. — Such  dire  calamity 

Beside  the  former  calls  for  thy  lament. 

At.  O  sullen  Fortune  !     How  deceitfully 
Thou  hast  robbed  the  Persians  of  their  purposes  ! 
To  his  unending  sorrow  hath  my  son 
Pursued  his  vengeance  on  the  Athenians'  pride  ! 
Too  few  of  ours  did  Marathon  consume. 
For  whom  my  son  planning  the  recompense, 
Hath  brought  this  tumult  of  disasters  down. 

But  tell  us  of  the  remnant  of  the  fleet. 
Where  didst  thou  leave  them  ?     Canst  thou  certify  ? 

Mess.  The  captains  of  what  ships  remained  afloat 
Sailed  down  the  wind  in  rash  disordered  flight. 

Meantime  the  escaping  army  suffered  loss. 
Some  perishing  of  thirst  by  the  clear  wells 
In  wide  Bocotia,  while  the  rest  of  us, 
Hungry  and  scant  of  breath,  passed  on  withia 
Phocis  and  Doris  and  the  Melian  shore, 
Where  mild  Spercheius  laves  a  smiling  land. 
From  thence  the  borders  of  Achaia's  plain 
And  towns  of  Thessaly  received  our  host. 
Hardly  bested  and  hungering  :  there  most  died, 
Of  thirst  and  famine.     Both  were  in  the  extreme. 

Yet  moved  we  onward  through  Magnesian  wastes 
To  Macedonia,  crossing  Axius'  fords. 
And  passing  Bolbe's  waving  reeds  ;  then  came 


54  THE  PERSIANS  [494-530 

To  Mount  Pangaion  and  the  Edonians'  land. 

That  night,  agamst  the  season  of  the  year. 

By  Providence  Di-vine  a  wintry  storm 

Made  hard  with  ice  the  Strymon's  holy  stream. 

That  men  who  erst  had  set  the  gods  at  nought 

Bowed   down   and   worshipped,    praising    Earth    and 

Heaven. 
When  those  loud  prayers  were  ended,  all  the  host 
Began  to  cross  the  ice-encrusted  ford. 
But  only  those  who  started  ere  the  sun 
Had  shed  abroad  his  beams  remain  alive. 
For  the  bright  orb  with  radiant  warmth  dissolved 
And  sundered  the  mid  passage :  do\^Ti  they  fell. 
Heaped  on  each  other :  he  was  fortunate 
Who  in  that  throng  first  yielded'  up  his  breatb. 

Not  many  are  they  who  'scaped,  and  with  much  toil 
Hardly  have  passed  through  Thracia  to  a  land 
Where  friendly  hearths  received  them.    Persia  mourns 
The  loss  of  all  that  youth,  her  dearest  flower. 

All  this  is  true,  and  more  I  leave  unsaid 
That  Heaven  sent  doi^Ti,  afllicting  Persian  men. 

Cho.  Genius  of  ruin  !  with  what  giant  force 
Thou  hast  set  thy  foot  on  all  this  Persian  world  ! 

At.  Woe,  for  the  host  destroyed  !  oh,  woe  is  me  ! 
Night  vision  of  my  dream,  too  clear  and  true 
Thy  warning  !     Weak  interpreters  were  ye  1 
Yet  your  one  word  of  counsel  firmly  holds. 
And  I  embrace  it,  first  entreating  Heaven 
With  humble  pra)''ers.     Then  will  I  fetch  from  home 
For  Earth  and  parted  souls  an  offering, — 
Too  late,  I  know,  when  all  is  over  and  done, 
Yet  with  some  hope  of  lessening  ills  to  be. 
Meantime  'tis  yours,  in  this  disastrous  hour, 
With  loyal  plans  thwarting  disloyalty. 
To  unite  in  conference  all  faithful  men. 
And  should  my  son  arrive  ere  my  return. 
Witli  words  of  comfort  guide  him  home,  lest  he 
Add  wilful  evil  to  calamity.  lExit 


531-560]  THE  PERSIANS  65 

Chorus. 

Great  king  of  all  gods,  thou  hast  ruined  the  Persians' 

pride  ; 
Thou  hast  drained  their  army  that  flowed  in  a  lordly 

tide  ; 
Thou  hast  covered  all  over  with  grief,  as  a  darksome 

shroud, 
Ecbatana's  towers  and  Susa's  palaces  proud. 
And  many  a  tender  hand  is  rending  the  veil. 
And  many  a  gentle  spirit  doth  inly  wail, 
As  beneath  the  tear-steeped  bosom   the   heart  doth 

fail. 
Ah  !  many  a  Persian  bride  in  the  lonely  house 
Cries  '  Oh  !  '  for  the  vanished  face  of  her  naanly  spouse. 
In  delicate  sorrow  they  leave  the  coverlets  fine 
And  the  couches  of  youth's  soft  dalliance,  while  each 

doth  pine 
With  sound  unending  of  inexhaustible  moan. 
And  we  with  loyal  sjiirits  lament  and  groan 
For    the    heart-overwhelming    fate    of    the    warriors 

gone. 

Now  all  dispeopled  and  alone,  I  1 

In  all  her  coasts  doth  Asia  groan. 

Alas,  woe  worth  the  day  ! 
At  Xerxes'  word  that  army  crossed, 
By  Xerxes  was  that  army  lost, 
Xerxes  for  all  that  naval  host 

The  advantage  cast  away. 
How  Susa's  children  shall  deplore 
Dareius,  their  desire  of  yore. 

Defending  them  from  harm  ! 
Oft  then  they  triumphed  with  the  bow. 
But  nought  of  loss  did  Persia  know, 

Secure  from  all  alarm. 

Bold  mariners  and  men  of  war  I  2 

On  many  a  flax-winged,  dark-prowed  car, 
(Woe  worth  the  bitter  hour  !) 


56  THE  PERSIANS  [560-597 

By  ships  o'er  sea  that  army  crossed. 
On  shipboard  all  their  hopes  were  lost. 
By  ships  together  hurtling  tossed. 

And  fell  lonians'  power. 
Our  sovereign  lord  himself,  we  are  told. 
Through  trackless  wastes  and  wintry  cold 

Escaped  pursuing  death. 
But  hardly  :  Thracia's  plains  are  wide. 
And  till  he  reach  the  Asian  side 

He  draws  precarious  breath. 

Others  perforce  left  to  their  earlier  doom,  II  1 

Round  the  Cenchrean  shore 
Float  to  and  fro,  swayed  in  their  wintry  tomb. 

Lament  them  o'er  and  o'er  ! 
Let  poignant  grief  inspire  the  long-drawn  moan. 
And  nought  but  sobs  impede  the  heart-derived  groan. 

Tost  by  the  terrible  waves,  they  are  pulled  and  torn  II 2 
By  voiceless  mouths — oh,  weep  ! — 

Of  monstrous  uncouth  creaturea,  strangely  born 
Of  the  unpolluted  deep. 

Homes  mourn  their  masters  lest,  and  parents  old 

Lament  their  childless  lot  with  agonies  manifold. 

Through  Asian  land  the  subject  folk  III  I 

Prepare  them  to  cast  off  the  yoke  ; 

Tribute  no  longer  will  they  pay 

Beneath  the  Persian's  sovran  sway. 

No  longer  fall  in  homage  prone 

Before  the  Achaeraenian  throne  : — 

The  awe  of  majesty  is  gone. 

Men's  tongues  henceforth  are  free  to  range    III  2 

O'er  possibilities  of  change. 

The  curb  of  licence  is  no  more  : 

The  government  of  force  is  o'er  ; 

Since  Aias'  surf-surrounded  land 

Holds  on  her  blood-bestained  strand 

^Vll  Persia's  mystery  of  command- 


598-629]  THE  PERSIANS  57 

Re-enter  Atossa. 

At.  Friends,  whosoe'er  hath  skill  of  mortal  ways 
I^ows,  when  the  tide  of  evils  is  at  flood. 
How  all  things  terrify  ;  but  when  the  life 
Flows  smoothly,  men  are  confident  and  sure 
The  same  fair  fortune  will  be  theirs  for  aye. 
My  lot  this  while  is  girt  about  with  fears  ; 
Heaven's  adverse  will  is  plain  before  my  sight ; 
Mine  ears  are  filled  with  inauspicious  cries ; 
And  all  my  spirit  is  amazed  with  woe. 
Therefore  I  come  on  foot,  without  my  car 
And  all  that  former  pomp,  again  from  home, 
Bearing  unto  the  father  of  my  child 
Peace-offerings  of  power  to  allure  the  dead : 
Milk  rich  and  white  from  a  pure  cow,  bright  honey 
Wrought  out  of  flowers  by  the  industrious  bee, 
With  lustral  waters  from  a  virgin  spring. 
And  living  juice  from  an  ungrafted  vine. 
Its  ancient  mother,  bright  with  quickening  cheer. 
I  have  also  from  the  grey-green  olive- plant. 
That  carries  her  thick  foliage  ever  young. 
This  fragrant  oil  ;  and  wreaths  of  various  flowers, 
Luxuriant  offspring  of  all-bounteous  Earth. 

Ye,  then,  dear  friends,  in  honour  of  the  dead 
Support  mine  offering  with  your  pious  hymn. 
And  summon  up  from  underground  to  light, 
Dareius,  now  a  blessed  spirit  of  good. 
Whilst  I  commend  unto  the  thirsty  ground 
These  honours  destined  for  the  powers  below. 

Chortjs. 
Most  royal  lady,  revered  of  the  Persians  aU, 
While  thou  send'st  down  to  his  dwelling  beneath  the 

ground 
That  pure  libation,  we  with  a  hymn  will  call 
On  the  powers  that  conduct  the  soul  o'er  the  darkling 

bound 
To  be  kind,  and  release  the  spirit  they  hold  in  thrall. 
Hermes,  and  Earth,  and  King  of  the  Powers  of  Night,' 


58  THE  PERSIANS  [629-671 

Great  holy  beings  that  govern  the  world  below. 
Send  up,  we  pray  you,  his  soul  from  beneath  to  light ; 
For  a  cure  of  our  troublous  evil,  if  cure  he  know, 
He  alone  can  tell  us  in  words  of  revealing  might.— 

Doth  the  sainted  spirit  hear  us  of  our  royal  lord  ?    I  1 

Hath  he  caught  the  clear-toned  word 
From  our  voices  pealing  Persian-wise  in  varied  notes  of 
woe  ? 
Is  my  prayer  by  him  allowed  ? 
Or  mine  anguish  must  I  utter  in  a  strain  exceeding 

loud  ? 
Hath  he  heard  my  supplication  there  below  ? 

Earth,    and   rulers   of    the    people    of    the    shadowy 
place,  1 2 

Send  him  upward,  we  implore, 
Like  to  none  that  in  past  ages  Persian  earth  has  covered 
o'er, 
Persia's  God,  of  Achaemenian  race. 

Loved  was  the  hero,  loved  his  mound  of  rest,      II 1 
Beloved  and  mourned  the  life  it  hides  from  day. 
Hades,  release  of  thy  great  grace,  we  pray. 
Divine  Dareius,  of  all  rulers  best ! 

He  lost  not  lives  in  wars  by  millions  rued,  112 

But  heavenly  wise  the  Persians  found  him  still  ; 
Since  with  deep  wisdom  and  unwavering  will 
He  steered  our  armies,  like  a  pilot  good. 

Master  and  lord,  appear  !     Our  lord  of  old.         III  1 
Pvise  by  the  summit  of  thy  mound  of  rest. 
Lifting  thy  saffron  slipper,  edged  with  gold. 
Rearing  thy  turban,  with  the  imperial  crest ; 
Come,  father,  ancient  source  of  blessings  manifold  ! 

Come,  list  the  woes  of  this  strange  hour  of  doom  !     Ill  2 
Lord  of  our  lord,  let  us  behold  thy  form  ! 
There  hovers  o'er  our  hearts  an  evil  gloom. 
Our  youth  are  perished  in  a  withering  storm. 
Father  of  good,  come  forth  ;  we  kneel  before  thy  tomb  ! 


672-704]  THE  PERSIANS  69 

O  woe,  woe,  woe  !  IV 

Twofold,  the  blame,  redoubled  is  the  blow. 
Thou  whom  thy  friends  must  ever  freshly  mourn, 
Why  hast  thou  left  thine  Empire  thus  "forlorn  ? 
Those  three-tiered  galleys  all  are  gone, 
Undone,  for  evermore  undone  ! 

The  Ghost  of  Daeeitjs  appears. 

Dar.  O  true  and  tried,  corrivals  of  my  youth. 
Old  now  and  reverend,  Persians,  what  hath  chanced  ? 
What  grief  afflicts  the  state  ?     WTiy  groans  the  plain 
With  shuddering  tramp  of  crowds  in  agony  ? 
My  soul  was  softened  by  the  drink-offering, 
Yet  fears,  when  I  behold  beside  my  tomb 
My  queen  and  you,  that  sing  your  dirges  near, 
And  sadly  summon  me  from  where  ye  stand 
With  ghost-compelling  anthems.     Hard  the  road 
From  Hades  forth  to  light ;  the  gods  beneath 
Are  swift  to  seize  and  tardy  to  let  go. 
Yet  hath  my  power  with  them  prevailed.     I  am  here 
But  haste,  lest  I  be  censured  for  delay. 
To  tell  what  new-born  trouble  weighs  you  down. 

Cho.  We  fear  to  address  the  spirit  of  the  dead ;  1 

We  tremble  to  behold  thine  honoured  head  ; 

We  are  cowed  and  voiceless  through  long-wonted  dread. 

Dab.  Nay,  since  your  lament  hath  drawn  me  upward 

from  my  place  of  rest, 

Be  not  awed,  but  clear  and  briefly  let  your  trouble  be 

expressed. 
Nor  prolong  the  tale  unduly.     Wherefore  are  ye  sore 
distressed  ? 

Cho.  We  shrink  to  obey  that  call;  we  shrink  to  tell  2 
Things  hard  of  utterance  to  one  loved  so  well. 
Love  joined  with  grief  our  silence  doth  compel. 
Dae.  Then,  since  ye  prove  speechless,  daunted    by 
your  long-accustomed  fears. 
Thou,  partaker  of  my  chamber,  royal  lady,  bowed  with 
years. 


60  THE  PERSIANS  [705-724 

Tell  me  something  plainly,  ceasing  from  those  deep- 
drawn  sobs  and  cries. 
Direst  evil  to  frail  mortals  can  but  come  in   human 

guise. 
If  their  life  go  lengthening  onward,  many  griefs  to 

mortals  all, 
Some  from  Earth  and  some  from  Ocean,  are  appointed 
to  befall. 
At.  0  Dareius,  beyond  all  men  blessed  in  thy  for- 
tune's course. 
Envied,  while  thou  saw'st    the    sunhght,  hke  a  god 

with  radiant  force 
Thou  didst  live  a  life  of  gladness,  honoured  to  the 

tranquil  close  ; 
Now  in  death,  'mid  Persia's  downfall,  envied  is  thy 

deep  repose. 
Few  the  words  required  to  tell  thee  the  full  measure 

of  our  woe  : — 
All  thine  Empire  lies  in  ruin,  crushed  with  cureless 
overthrow. 
Dar.  Came  some  plague  from  the  destroyer  ?     Or 

hath  faction  torn  the  state  ? 
At.  All  our  army  before  Athens  perished  by  the 

blows  of  Fate. 
Dar.  Say,  what  son  of  mine  was  leader  of  the  host 

that  ventured  there  ? 
At.  Xerxes  the  impetuous,  sweeping   Asia  of  her 

children  bare. 
Dar.  Was't  by  sea  or  land,  infatuate  !    he  devised 

that  fond  intent  ? 
At.  Earth  and  Ocean  felt  the  presence  of  his  two- 
fold armament. 
Dar.  How   could   that   stupendous   army   pass    to 

Europe  on  dry  land  ? 
At.  Made  to  cross  the  firth  of  Helle,  by  his  engineers 

o'ersparmed. 
Dar.  How   prevailed  he  such   a   barrier   on   great 

Bosporos  to  lay  ? 
At.  Some  unearthly  power  was  working  in  his  breast 
that  fatal  day. 


725-745]  THE  PERSIANS  61 

Dar.  Mighty  was  the  power  that  swayed  him,  mad 

the  boldness  of  his  thought  ! 
At.  Now  the  event  reveals  the  mischief  through  his 

pride  for  Persia  wrought. 
Dar.  What  event  ?    What  stroke  hath  moved  your 

mourning  for  that  host  of  kings  ? 
At.  Ruin   on  the  navy  rushing  ruin  to  the  axmy 

brings. 
Dar.  Have    my  warrior  people   perished   with  de- 
struction so  complete  ? 
At.  Susa  for  her  vanished  heroes  moans  in  every 

vacant  street. 
Dar.  Out,  alas  for  our  defenders  !  for  the  army's 

staunch  array  ! 
At.  Bactria  mourns  her  flower  of  manhood — not  a 

head  whose  hair  was  grey. 
Dar.  Hapless  king  1   Of  what  prime  succour  feels 

he  now  the  bitter  loss  ! 
At.  All  alone,  or  with  few  comrades,  so  they  tell, 

he  came  to  cross — 
Dar.  Whither  ?     Is  there  aught  redeemed  us  from 

the  failure  ye  deplore  ? 
At.  Gladly  came  he  near  the   bridge-way  yoking 

shore  to  hostile  shore. 
Dar.  Passed  he  safely  thence  to  Asia  ?    Come  there 

tidings  true  and  clear  ? 
At.  Yea,  thereof  report  is  certain,  rumoured  without 

doubt  or  fear. 
Dar.  Ah  !   too  soon  the  doom  is  fallen.     Zeus  hath 

brought  upon  my  child 
All  the  weight  foretold  of  evil.   I  to  fate  was  reconciled. 
Thinking  Heaven  would  bring  the  burden  on  an  issue 

far  removed. 
Now  all  otherwise,  through  Xerxes'  rashness,  hath  the 

sequel  proved. 
When  a  man  is  bent  on  ruin,  God  will  help  him  to  his 

fall. 
Now  a  fount  of  ill  is  opened  for  himself  and  Persians  all ; 
Since,  in  ignorant  youth  o'erweening,  he  would  fetter 

like  a  slave 


62  THE  PERSIANS  [746-772 

Bosporos  divinely  flowing  with  his  Hellespontine  wave. 
He  would  alter  Heaven's  appointment,  and  with  chains 

from  human  hands 
Sought    to  stay  the   stream  eternal,  paving  for  his 

countless  bands 
Ample  roadway,  he,  a  mortal,  rashly  thinking  he  could 

foil 
AU   the   gods   and   great  Poseidon  bj^  his  hammers' 

impious  toil. 
Sure  his  heart  by  Heaven  was  blinded,  and  the  wealth 

my  labour  won 
Lies  a  prey  for  the  first  comer,  through  the  madness  of 

my  son. 
At.  This  hath  too  impetuous  Xerxes  learnt  from  men 

of  evil  strain. 
Ever  at  his  ears  recounting  all  the  treasure  thou  didst 

gain 
For  thy  house  by  foreign  battles  : — He,  they  whispered, 

within  door 
Craven-like  his  falchion  brandished,  adding  nought  to 

that  fair  store. 
Such  reproaches  ofttimes  hearing   from   the  men  of 

froward  mind. 
That  campaign  against  fair  Hellas  and  those  levies  he 

designed. 
Dar.  They  have  wrought  a  work,  those  counsellors, 

beyond 
Imagination, — an  indelible  deed. 
No  such  disaster  ever  heretofore 
Dispeopled  Susa,  since  the  Lord  of  Heaven 
O'er  aU  the  tribes  of  teeming  Asia 
Granted  one  man  to  wield  the  imperial  sword. 
Medus  first  ruled  that  shepherd  host.     His  son 
Confirmed  the  sovereignty,  since  with  wise  thought 
He  governed  his  own  spirit.     Cyrus  then. 
Third  in  succession,  by  his  fortunate  reign 
Estabhshed  peace  through  aU  the  Persian  name. 
Brought  in  the  Lydian  and  the  Phrygian  folk, 
And  sorely  ravaged  wide  Ionia, — 
Too  righteous  to  provoke  the  gods  to  wrath. 


773-808]  THE  PERSIANS  63 

Fourth  ruled  his  son,  Cambyses,  great  in  war. 

But  ISIardos,  your  fifth  king,  disgraced  his  land 

And  Persia's  ancient  palace.     Him  with  guile 

Brave  Artaphernes  in  the  chamber  slew. 

With  his  brave  comrades,  destined  to  that  deed. 

Then  fell  to  me  the  lot  I  coveted. 

And  mighty  hosts  I  led  to  fields  of  fame  ; 

Yet  brought  on  Persia  no  such  misery. 

But  my  son  Xerxes,  young  in  years  and  mood, 

Remeinbers  not  his  father's  warning  rede. 

A  dire  forgetting  !  for  of  this  be  sure. 

Friends  of  my  youth,  not  all  our  royal  fine 

Did  harm  to  equal  this  that  he  hath  done. 

Cho.  Say,  Lord  Dareius,  what  shall  be  the  end  ? 
How  shall  we  Persians  meet  the  time  to  come, 
How  make  the  best  of  fortune  ? 

Dar.  Nevermore 

Wage  wars  on  Hellas,  though  the  Median  host 
Be  thrice  so  many.     For  the  coimtry  there 
Fights  for  her  sons. 

Cho.  How  meanst  thou  that  the  land 

Fights  for  her  men  ? 

Dae.  The  more  assailants  come 

The  more  she  kills  by  famine. 

Cho.  Then  we'll  raise 

A  chosen  band  of  warriors  able  and  few. 

Dab.  Not  even  the  remnant   that  remains  behind 
To  range  through  Hellas,  shall  return  alive. 

Cho.  How  ?   Doth  not  all  that  force  of  Eastern  men 
Pass  Helle's  ford  from  Europe  hitherward  ? 

Dar.  Few  out  of  all  that  multitude — if  aught 
Of  credence  to  Heaven's  oracles  be  due 
From  him  who,  looking  on  to-day's  event. 
Sees  their  fulfilment  absolute  and  clear. 
For  thus  'tis  prophesied.     Through  idle  hope 
Xerxes  will  leave  the  choicest  of  his  men 
To  winter  where  Asopus  with  cool  rills 
Waters  the  plain,  giving  Boeotia's  land 
A  draught  right  welcome.     What  awaits  them  there  ? 
Vengeance  condign  for  impious  violence. 


64  THE  PERSIANS  [809-845 

They  came  to  Hellas,  and  were  not  afraid 

To  plunder  shrines  and  burn  the  temples  down. 

No  reverence  held  them  ; — altars  laid  in  dust, 

Statues  uprooted  from  their  pedestals. 

All  things  divine  o'erturned,  attest  their  guilt. 

Nor  shall  their  punishment  be  less  : — they  suffer 

Even  now,  and  more  shall  suffer ;  still  that  fount 

Is  gushing,  unexhausted,  unexplored. 

Plataea's  plain  shall  prove  it,  pasted  over 

With  blood  of  slaughter  from  the  Spartan  spear. 

Three  generations  hence  those  heaps  of  slain 

Voiceless  shall  blazon  to  posterity 

Loud  warnings  against  human  pride.     Tliat  flower 

Soon  falls,  and  yields  calamity  for  fruit, 

Unlooked-for  harvest  of  dire  misery. 

i\Iark  well  the  wages  of  their  sin,  and  bear 

Hellas  and  Athens  ever  in  mind.     Let  none. 

Raising  his  heart  above  the  things  he  hath 

In  passionate  love  for  plans  unreahzed. 

Make  shipwreck  of  great  fortune.     Zeus  brings  on 

His  inquisition  at  the  destined  hour, 

A  judge  severe  to  punish  boastful  thoughts. 

Then  ye  who  may,  suppljing  his  chief  need. 

Spend  your  well-reasoned  counsels  on  my  son. 

Arid  bid  him  cease  provoking  Heaven  with  pride. 

Dear  aged  queen,  mother  of  Xerxes,  thou 

Bring  forth  the  seemliest  raiment  from  thy  store 

And  go  to  meet  thy  child.     O'er  all  his  frame 

The  broidered  garments,  rent  in  sorrow's  rage, 

Hang  raggedly,  showing  the  sundered  woof. 

Soothe  him  to  mildness  with  consoling  words  : 

No  other  voice  but  thine  will  he  endure. 

I  pass  to  nether  darkness.     Aged  friends. 

Though  in  affliction,  give  your  hearts  to  joy. 

And  cheer  your  souls  with  comforts  day  by  day. 

Since  wealth  avails  not  in  the  world  of  death. 

[GJiost  vanishes 

Cho.  How  many  griefs,  that  are  and  are  to  be 
For  the  Eastern  race,  afflict  my  hearkening  mind  ! 

At.  Sorrows  are  thronging  to  my  heart,  but  one 


846-890]  THE  PERSIANS  65 

Touches  me  nearest, — oh,  the  cruel  blow  I — 

Xerxes  in  rags, — all  shame  is  in  that  word, 

All  ruin,  all  despair,  aU  misery  ! 

I  will  bring  forth  the  costliest  ornaments 

And  go  with  them  to  meet  and  comfort  him — 

I'll  not  forsake  my  loved  one  in  his  woe.  [Exit 

Choetjs. 

Ah,  glorious  was  the  life  of  Persia  then,  I  1 

Untold  the  blessedness  her  children  found. 
When  the  aged,  the  all-conquering,  the  renowned 

Stainless  Dareius,  god-hke  among  men, 
RepeUer  of  all  harms,  ruled  Asian  ground. 

Our  armies'  prowess  then  was  famed  afar,  I  2 

The  strongholds  of  our  foes  were  razed  and  burned. 
And  when  the  host  with  happy  speed  returned 

Unworn  and  scathless  from  the  field  of  war, 

Each  homestead  welcomed  all  for  whom  it  yearned. 

How  many  a  tribe  Dareius  erst  subdued  !         II  1 
Yet  passed  not  westward  over  Halys'  ford 
Nor  stirred  from  home : — The  Achelo'ian  brood 
Of  hamlets  pight  on  spreading  Strymon's  flood 
Hard  by  the  huts  of  Thracia's  warrior  horde  ; 

And  towns,  with  towers  begirt,  on  the  firm  earth       II  2 

Beyond  that  pool,  and  many  on  either  side 
With  spacious  gardens  fringing  Helle's  fu'th 
Obeyed  his  voice,  and,  far  from  pinching  dearth, 
Propontis'  coves,  and  Pontus'  opening  wide ; 

And    the    isles    that, — where    the    shores    of    Asian 
land  III   1 

With  jutting  cliffs  o'erlook  the  broadening  brine, — 
Surrounded  still  by  surging  billows  stand. 

As  Lesbos,  Samos  rich  in  olive  and  vine, 
Chios  and  Paros,  Naxos,  Myconos, 
Tenos,  with  rustic  Andros  nestling  close. 

And  those  midway  across,  whose  bright  abodes      III  2 
Teem  with  sea-produce, — Lemnos,  once  the  seat 


66  THE  PERSIANS  [890-928 

Of  wax-winged  Icarus,  Cnidos  and  Rhodes, 

And  Cyprus, — with  full  many  a  fair  retreat, 
Paphos  the  blest.  Soli,  and  Salamis, 
Whose  parent  isle  has  brought  our  land  to  this  : — 

O  grief  !    And  those  rich  towns  he  governed  then  IV 
With  Persian  justice  and  wise  Persian  care, 

Peopled  with  myriads  of  Hellenic  men 

Throughout  Ionia's  province  large  and  fair. 
Boimdless  resource  for  war  was  harboured  there. 

Of  shielded  spearmen  and  all  manner  of  arms. 

But  now  by  Heaven's  fell  spite  and  naval  harms 

That  hope  is  killed,  never  to  live  again. 


Enter  Xekses. 

Xer.  Ay  me, 
AU  hapless  for  the  hateful  blow 
That  came  ere  I  the  signs  might  know 
Of  the  dire  rage  of  that  harsh  power 
Minded  to  wither  Persia's  flower. 
Our  stock  is  blasted.     Woe  is  me  ! 
How  shall  I  face  my  destiny  ? 
When  I  behold  yon  reverend  train. 
Strength  fails  my  limbs.     My  heart  were  fain, 
O  Zeus,  that  I  were  buried  deep 
With  those  who  sleep  the  warrior's  sleep. 

Cno.  Woe,  Xerxes,  for  that  staunch  array ! 
Woe,  for  the  Persian's  honoured  sway  ! 
Woe,  for  the  men  of  chief  renown. 
By  ruthless  Destiny  mown  down  ! 
Our  country  groans  for  the  young  lifo 
She  reared  in  vain,  in  Xerxes'  strife 
Destroyed,  for  he  hath  crammed  the  grave 
With  Persian  bodies  many  and  brave : 
Many  are  gone,  our  country's  bloom, 
Darkly  to  dwell  within  the  tomb. 
Archers  of  might,  a  countless  host, 
Have  perished  ; — their  brave  help  is  lost. 
Alas,  the  heavy  hour ! 


929-966]  THE  PERSIANS  67 

0  sovereign  lord,  thine  Asian  land 
Sinks  on  her  knee,  strengthless  to  stand. 

Strangely  bereft  of  power. 

Xee.  Alas  !  To  the  Achaemenian  name,  I  1 

I,  ill-starred  mortal,  born  to  shame, 
Have  caused  nought  else  but  loud  lament. 
With  hatred  from  all  Asia  blent. 

Cho.  Like  IMariandynian  mourner,  I 
Greet  thy  returning  with  a  cry 
Of  mourning,  meditated  well, 
As  to  prolong  some  funeral  knell. 

Xeb.  Weep  on.     Let  the  harsh  notes  abound    I  2 
With  endless,  iterative  sound. 
On  me,  on  me,  the  destinies  turn 
Their  rage,  'gainst  me  their  ire  doth  burn. 

Cho.  I'll  utter,  then,  the  hopeless  cry 
Of  a  whole  race  in  agony ; 
Such  meed  of  mourning  is  their  due 
Whom  war  'mid  seething  waters  slew. 

Xer.  So  wrought  the  Ionian's  might,  II  1 

Whom  in  that  gloomy  fight 

Strong  Ares  made  prevail. 
Their  armed  prows  with  shocks 
Drave  on  those  hapless  rocks 

Our  men,  and  turned  the  scale. 

Cho.  Then,  weeping,  I  would  ask  thee  more. 
Where  are  the  chieftains  we  deplore. 
Thy  comrades  ?     Where  is  Susas  gone, 
Where  Pharandaces,  Pelagon, 
And  Psammis  ?     Where  Agdabatas  ? 
Where  Susiscanes,  Dotamas, 
Leaving  Ecbatana  to  moan  ? 

X^ER.  Fallen  from  a  ship  of  Tyre  II  2 

1  left  them,  soon  to  expire, 
A  prey  to  hopeless  griefs  ; 

Beating  their  helpless  forms. 
Playthings  of  ruthless  storms, 
On  Salaminian  reefs. 


68  THE  PERSIANS  [9^7-99^ 

Cho.  Again  with  tears  I  ask,  where  stood 
Pharnuchus,  Ariomardus  good. 
Princely  Seualkes,  form  divine, 
Lilaeus  of  the  lordly  Une, 
]\Iasistras,  Memphis,  Tharybis, 
Hystaechmas,  Artembares  ; — this 
I  bid  thee  tell  me,  sovereign  mine. 

Xer.  Ay  me,  ay  me  !  HI  1 

Athena's  ancient  town 
They  saw,  then  plunged  adown 

With  plashing  not  of  the  oar. 
They  saw  her  to  their  death, 
Now,  spent  their  latest  breath, 

They  welter  on  that  shore. 

Cho.  And  him,  too,  didst  thou  there  forsake. 
Whose  eye  would  still  for  Persia  wake, 
And  reckon  o'er  at  thy  behest 
Her  milhons  ?     Him,  of  viziers  best, 
Alpistus  good,  Sesames'  child. 
Grandson  of  Megabates  mild  ? 
And  didst  thou  leave  brave  Parthus  there  ? 
And  tall  Arsames  ?     0  despair  ! 
Evil  on  evil,  woe  on  woe. 
To  Persia's  pride  thy  tale  doth  show. 

Xer.  As  on  the  witch's  wheel.  III  2 

Thy  cruel  words  reveal 

My  comrades  to  mine  eye. 
Why  must  I  see  again 
That  scene  of  boundless  pain  ? 

My  heart    for  them  doth  cry. 

Cho.  Not  these  alone  mine  eye  demands  ; 
For  where  are  Xanthus  and  his  bands. 
Ten  thousand  Mardian  warriors  ?  where 
Anchares,  brave  beyond  compare, 
Arsaces  and  Diaesis,  bold 
Leaders  of  mounted  troops  untold  ? 
Cegdabatas',  Lythinmas'  truth, 
Keen  Tolmus'  spear,  I  miss  with  ruth, 


999-I0331  THE  PERSIANS  69 

Wondering  why  they  came  not  in 
Behind  the  royal  baldachin. 

Xer,       Gone  are  they  who  raised  the  host.    IV  1 

Cho.  Gone,  alas,  to  nameless  gloom. 

Xer.       Oh,  that  levy's  bitter  cost ! 

Cho.  Oh,  the  cruel  hand  of  doom  ! 

Ills  beyond  the  reach  of  thought. 
Grim  as  Ate's  glance,  it  brought. 

Xer.       Stroke  too  deep  for  time  to  change!  IV  2 
Cho.  All  too  plain  the  tentless  wound. 

Xer.       Strange  affliction  ;  heavy  as  strange  ! 
Cho.  Shipmen  from  the  Ionian  sound 

Met  them  in  disastrous  hour. 

Woe,  for  Persia's  war -stained  flower  ! 

Xer.  Even  so.     I  am  foiled  with  all  that  mighty 
host.  V  1 

Cho.  To  Persia  what  remains,  O  man  of  woe  ? 

Xer.  See'st  thou  this  remnant  of  my  robe  ? 

Cho.  I  see. 

Xer.  This  quiver  unsupplied  ? 

Cho.  Another  waif 

Snatched  from  the  wreck  ? 

Xer.  This  empty  treasure-house 

For  arrows  vainly  spent  ? 

Cho.  a  scanty  store 

To  save  from  aU  that  wealth  ! 

Xer.  My  helpers  all 

Are  stripped  from  me. 

Cho.  Brave  are  the  Ionian  men 

In  battle,  well  they  stand  the  brunt  of  war. 

Xer.  Too  brave  !     I  ne'er  had    looked  for  that  I 
found.  V  2 

Cho.  Mean'st  thou  thy  navy  routed,  all  that  fleet? 

Xer.  1  saw  it,  and  rent  my  robes  thereat. 

Cho.  Ah,  woe  ! 

Xer.  Woe,  beyond  aU  lament. 

Cho.  Twofold  the  stroke. 

Yea,  and  threefold. 


70  THE  PERSIANS  [1034-1061 

Xek.  Bitter  indeed  to  us, 

But  gladsome  for  our  foes. 

Cho.  Our  prime  of  strength 

Was  there  lopped  off  and  crushed. 

Xer.  Yea,  all  my  train 

Are  torn  from  me. 

Cho.  Thy  best  of  Persian  friends 

Failed  thee  through  dire  disasters  of  the  deep. 

Xer.  Drench  sorrow  with  j-our  tears.  Conduct  me 
home.  VI  I 

Cho.  I  am  steeped  with  tears  that  well  from  sorrow's 
depth. 

Xer.  Re-echo  now  my  wailing. 

Cho.  With  good  will. 

Xer.  Wail  now  in  unison. 

Cho.  Ah  me  !  ah  me  ! 

Full  heavy  is  the  weight  of  grief  I  bear, 
And  heavier  that  to  come  which  I  foresee. 

Xer.  Strike  now  in  time,  and  groan  for  mv  be- 
hoof. VI  2 

Cno.  Sad  gift  that  sorrow  gives  to  misery  ! 

Xer.  Re-echo  now  my  groaning. 

Cho.  Woe,  woe,  woe  ! 

Xer.  Now  lift  the  wailing  cry. 

Cho.  Ah  me  !  ah  me  ! 

And  mingled  with  our  wail  shall  come  the  stroke, 
(Ah  me,  alas  !)  blackening  the  burdened  breast. 

Xer.  Beat  now  your  breasts  and  raise  the  JIvsian 
cry.  VII  1 

Cho.  O  grief,  grief,  grief  ! 

Xer.  And  ravage  your  white  beards. 

Cho.  Ay,  with  clenched  hand  and  sorrow-swollen 
heart. 

Xer.  And  hft  your  high-pitched  tones, 

Cho.  I  will,  I  will. 

Xer.  Rend  now  with  might  the  folds  upon  your 
breast.  "  VII  2 

Cho.  O  grief,  grief,  grief ! 


1062-1076]  THE  PERSIANS  71 

Xer.  Ply  liand  on  hair  for  ruth. 

Cho.  Ay,  with  clenched  hand  and  pity-laden  heart. 
Xee.  And  let  your  tears  run  down. 
Cho.  They  fall,  they  fall. 

Xer.  Re-echo  now  my  groaning.  VIII 

Cho.  Woe,  woe,  woe  ! 

Xer.  Lead  home  with  lamentation. 
Cho.  Ah  !  alas  ! 

Xer.  Unwelcome  is  my  tread  to  Persian  ground. 

Cho. 

Xer.  One  cry  holds  all  the  city. 
Cho.  One  loud  cry. 

Xer.  Wail,  then,  approaching  softly. 
Ceo.  Woe,  ah  !  woe  ! 

For  those  who  perished  with  the  three- tiered  hulls  ! 
Xer.  Ay  me  ! 

Reluctantly  I  tread  on  Persian  ground. 
Cho.  I  will  conduct  thee  with  sad  mourning  sound- 


SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

Eteocles. 

Messenger. 

Chorus  of  Thehan  Maidens. 

2nd  Messenger. 

ISMENE. 

Antigone. 
Herald. 

Thei-e  were  also  some  mute  persons  to  represent  the 
Theban  Elders. 


The  Scene  is  laid  in  the  Cadmeia,  or  Citadel  of 
Thebes,  in  an  open  space  before  the  palace  of  the 
Labdacidae. 

Time — during  the  generation  before  the  Trojan  War. 


This  play,  -which  was  performed  in  467  B.C.,  is  known  to 
have  been  the  third  play  of  a  trilogy  on  the '  Tale  of  Thebes,' 
consisting  of  the  La'ius,  the  Oedipus,  and  the  Seven, 
and  having  the  Sphinx  associated  with  it  as  a  Satyric 
drama. 

Although  lyrical  declamation  and  narrative  have  still  a 
large  place,  this  tragedy  shows  a  decided  advance  on  those 
preceding  it,  in  the  development  of  the  action  and  in  power 
of  characterization. 

Eteocles,  the  central  figure,  is  nobly  imagined.  Knowing 
himself  to  be  the  victim  of  a  cruel  destiny,  and  fighting  under 
the  shadow  of  his  father's  curse,  he  presents  a  dauntless 
brow  to  the  enmity  of  the  skies,  and  acts  with  unabated 
heroism  both  as  a  patriot  and  as  a  warrior.  Even  in  going 
forth  to  the  unnatural  encounter  with  his  younger  brother 
(Polynices,  in  Aeschylus,  is  still  the  younger),  he  bears 
himself  with  unimpeachable  dignity.  The  trepidation  of 
the  Theban  women  forms  the  dramatic  contrast  to  this 
terrible  self-possession.  The  whole  tragedy  is  well  described 
by  Aristophanes  as  'Apt'cus  fitarov,  '  crammed  full  with  the 
very  spirit  of  war.' 

Although  the  final  drama  of  a  trilogy,  this  ends,  hke  the 
Suppliajits,  with  divergent  utterances  on  the  part  of  the 
two  halves  of  the  Chorus,  such  as  might  have  prepared  the 
way  for  an  Antigone.  The  art  of  Aeschylus  retains  some- 
thing of  the  grandeur,  and  also  of  the  indeterminateness,  of 
Epic  poetry. 

The  six  leaders  whom  Polynices,  with  the  aid  of  Adrastus 
of  Argos,  his  brother-in-law,  has  succeeded  in  leaguing 
against  his  country  are,  (I)  Tydeus,  the  Aetohan,  who  had 
also  taken  refuge  with  Adrastus  ;  (2)  Capaneus,  the  son-in- 
law,  and  (3)  Eteoclus,  the  son  of  Iphis,  late  King  of  Argos  ; 
(4)  Hippomedon,  son  of  Talaus,  an  Argive ;  (5)  Partheno- 
paeus,  the  Arcadian,  son  of  Atalanta  and  Meilanion,  (6) 
Amphiaraus,  the  prophet,  who  had  been  induced  to  take 
the  fatal  step,  of  which  he  foreknew  the  issue,  by  his 
treacherous  -nife  Eriphyle,  the  sister  of  Adrastus.  The  hnes 
in  which  his  noble  integrity  are  described  are  said  to  have 
been  apphed  by  the  Athenian  audience  to  Aristides. 


SEVEN   AGAINST  THEBES 


Eteocles. 

Cadmeian  citizens,  what  man  soe'er 

Hath  charge  to  wield  aright  the  helm  of  state, 

Must  keep  strict  watch,  nor  once  ofiend  in  word. 

His  eyelids  may  not  slumber.     If  success 

Be  ours,  '  Some  god  has  done  it.'     If  mishap, 

\\Tiich  Heaven  forefend,  should  visit  us,  then  I, 

One  man  in  many  mouths,  through  all  this  town 

Shall  hear  myself  decried  with  hymns  of  hate 

And  fierce  reverberate  groans.     May  Warder  Zeus, 

True  to  his  name,  ward  such  from  Cadmus'  town  ! 

Meantime  'tis  yours,  according  to  your  might, 

^Vhether  now  in  the  prime  age  beseeming  war. 

Or  of  young  limbs  and  tender,  or  in  eld 

Still  nourishing  strong  nerves  with  vigorous  blood. 

To  aid  your  city  and  your  country's  gods, — 

Whose  altars  here  are  threatened  with  disgrace, — 

And  your  o\vn  offspring,  and  j-our  native  land. 

Mother  and  nurse,  that,  while  in  infancy 

Ye  crept  about  on  her  kind  bosom,  took 

The  burden  of  your  nurture  all  on  her, 

And  reared  you  up,  her  trusty  shield-bearers, 

To  stead  her  in  this  day  of  her  distress. 

So  far,  the  gods  are  with  us.     To  this  hour, 

Beleaguered  all  this  while,  the  chance  of  war, 

With  Heaven's  consent,  hath  most  inclined  our  way 

Then  rise  to  what  ensues.     For  now  the  seer, 

Shepherd  of  birds,  who,  in  his  ears  and  mind. 

With  art  infallible  discerns  their  flight. 

Nor  needs  tlame-tokens, — he,  Tiresias,  saith — 

Bj;-  divination  thus  assured  and  clear — 

To-night  the  Achaean  host,  in  council  met. 


76  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES         [29-65 

Are  planning  their  main  onset  'gainst  our  town. 
Come,  man  the  battlements,  crowd  every  port. 
Each  to  his  post  in  panoply  go  forth. 
Line  well  the  ramparts,  mount  the  flanking  towers, 
Meet  them  undaunted  at  the  gates,  nor  fear 
Their  foreign  numbers.     God  shall  guide  the  event. 
For  my  part  I  have  sent  my  scouts  to  scan 
Yond'  host ; — nor  idly,  if  my  faith  be  true. 
Their  sure  report  shall  guard  us  from  surprise. 

Enter  Messenger. 
Mess.  Dread  Lord  Eteocles,  our  people's  king, 
From  yonder  host  I  come  with  tidings  clear. 
Myself  the  eyewitness  of  the  things  I  tell. 
Seven  goodly  champions,  chiefs  of  seven  bands. 
Shed  blood  of  bulls  in  hoUow  dark-rimmed  shield, 
And  dipped  their  fingers  in  the  crimson  gore, 
And  aware  by  all  the  powers  of  murdering  war 
Either  to  raze  this  city  to  the  ground 
And  ravage  Thebes  with  hostile  violence. 
Or  stain  our  clime  with  carnage  in  their  death. 
Then  fastened  they  around  Adrastus'  car 
Mementos  of  themselves  to  travel  home 
Unto  tlieir  parents, — wherewithal  they  wept. 
But  never  sound  of  sorrow  left  their  lips, 
Since  the  high  temper  of  their  iron  hearts 
Atiame  with  valour,  breathed  the  dauntless  mood 
Of  lions  glaring  with  intent  of  war. 
Nor  halt  they  to  fulfil  their  oath.     The  lot 
Was  falling  as  I  left  them,  that  should  'point 
Each  chief  the  port  whereon  to  march  his  men ; 
Wherefore,  at  every  gateway's  going  forth. 
Set  thou  with  speed  our  city's  noblest  sons ; 
Since  now  at  hand  their  host  with  spear  and  shield 
Tramples  the  ground :  on  yonder  plain  are  cast 
White  foam-like  flakes  from  throats  of  armed  steeds. 
Thou  then,  our  pilot,  make  the  bulwarks  firm 
Of  this  our  vessel,  ere  the  blast  of  war 
Descend  on  her :  full  loudly  yonder  surge 
Roars  from  the  land.     Seize  thou  the  present  hour. 


66-I03]       SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  77 

While  I  shall  keep,  as  heretofore,  the  glance 
Of  a  true  watchman,  that  intelligence 
Of  things  without  may  shield  thee  well  from  harm. 

[Exit 
Eteocles.  Zeus,    Earth,   ye  guardian   deities,   and 
thou 
Mightiest  of  all  for  ill,  curse  of  my  sire. 
Extirpate  not  with  ravage  of  the  foe 
My  country,  I  entreat  you  :  spare  her  fall  ! 
Destroy  not  homes  where  Grecian  voices  sound. 
Let  Cadmus'  tovm  still  live  at  liberty 
From  foreign  domination  ;  nor  impose 
On  Thebes  the  yoke  of  bondage.     Be  her  aid ! 
Methinks  my  prayer  must  suit  with  your  own  wills  ; 
For  countries  fortunate  give  gods  their  due. 

Chorus  (entering). 
We  cry  aloud  for  fear.     O  day  of  woe  ! 
They  have  left  the  camp.     They  are  on  their  way. 

The  host 
Is  streaming  hither,  horsemen  in  the  van, 
A  mounted  multitude.     The  dust  persuades  me, 
Seen  in  the  sky,  dumb  harbinger,  but  sure. 
The  tramp  of  hoofs  upon  the  nearer  plain 
Falls  on  mine  ear,  threatening  captivity. 
It  hovers  close  at  hand,  the  heightening  roar 
As  of  wild  waters  irresistible 

Bending  the  hills.     Ah  gods  !     Ah  goddess-powers  ! 
Avert  the  coming  woe  !     With  deafening  shouts 
They  are  rushing  on  to  scale  our  city  walls, 
Armed  all  in  white,  armed  for  pursuit,  for  capture  ! 
Who  shall  defend  us,  who  shall  save  ?  what  god, 
^Vhat  goddess-power  ?     Where  shall  I  kneel  and  pray  ? 
Which  shrine  shall  serve  ?     O  blessed  ones,  I  hail 
Your  holy  presences  !     'Tis  time,  'tis  time 
To  cling  to  present  gods.     Why  do  we  groan 
And  linger  ?     Hear  ye  not  the  smitten  shield  ? 
^Vhen,  if  not  now,  should  supplicating  robes 
And  wreaths  be  in  request  ?     The  sound  is  clear, 
Nay  visible  !  the  clash  of  many  a  spear  ! 


78  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [104-154 

War-god,  that  from  of  old  inheritest 

Our  Theban  earth,  wilt  thou  betray  her  now  ? 

What   wilt  thou   do  ?     Desert    thine   own  ?     Bright 

god 
Of  the  golden  helm,  look  on  the  land,  the  town, 
Long  since  thy  well-beloved.     One  and  all, 
God-guardians  of  our  city,  come,  behold 
This  maiden -league  against  captivity  ! 
Wild  waves  around  the  wall,  borne  on  by  blasts 
Of  Ares'  breath,  slant-crested  waves  of  men, 
Are  flashing  at  the  gate.     Father  of  all. 
Save  us  from  capture ;  stay  the  enemy's  hand  ! 

Round  Cadmus'  citadel  with  dire  alarms  I  1 

The  Argive  fotmen  close  with  terror  of  arms. 
The  curb-chains  of  their  chargers  as  they  ride 
Ring  knells  of  warriors  clad  in  mailed  pride. 
Seven  valiant  chiefs  before  them,  spear  in  hand. 
Each  at  the  allotted  gateway,  take  their  stand. 
O  daughter  of  the  Highest,  lover  of  fight, 
Pallas,  defend  our  country  with  tliy  might. 
And  thou,  Poseidon,  ruler  of  the  deep. 
Let  thy  shark-spearing  weapon  through  them  sweep. 
And  free  us  from  this  tyranny  of  fear. 

O  Lord  of  war,  deliver  Cadmus'  town,  I  2 

The  city  from  of  old  declared  thine  own  ; 

I^et  thy  fond  care  for  her  to  sight  appear. 

First  mother  of  Cadmeians  old  and  young, 

Cypris,  defend  us  all  !     From  thee  we  are  sprung. 

Who  now,  with  prayers  that  pierce  the  immortal  ear, 

Meekly  surround  thy  sacied  altars  here. 

O  wolf-slaying  lord,  stirred  by  our  groans  and  cries, 

Send  slaughter  on  our  wolvish  enemies  ! 

Kand  maiden,  daughter  of  Latona,  thou 

Make  ready  for  the  fight  thy  silver  bow. 

Ah,  ah  !     All  round  I  hear  the  rattling  car,  II  1 

(Hera,  dread  lady  of  the  skies  !) 
The  wheels  about  the  burdened  axles  jar, 

(Kind  maiden,  Aitemis,  arise  i), 


155-189]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  79 

All  the  air  is  hurtling  with  their  brandished  spears. 
Where  stands  our  city's  weal  ?     What  shall  be  done  ? 

What  issue  of  our  fears 
Will  the  everlasting  gods  bring  on  ? 

Ah,  ah!  they  come  !    Slung  stones  are  glancing  o'er  II  2 

Our  battlements  (Apollo  kind  !) 
Through  every  gate  is  heard  the  rising  roar. 

Borne  inward  on  the  troubled  wind, 
From  myriad  brazen  shields  beaten  in  scorn. 

Yea,  but  of  war  the  righteous  last  event 
In  highest  Heaven  is  born. 
And  from  great  Zeus  with  saving  power  is  sent. 

O  blessed  Onka,  that  o'erlook'st  our  towa, 
Pi"otect  thy  seven-gated  home's  renowii. 

Divine  defenders  all.  III  1 

Come  at  our  maiden  call. 
Warders  sublime  of  Thebe's  holy  land. 

Leave  not  in  war's  alarms 

Your  city  to  dire  harms 
Of  cruel  onslaught  by  an  alien  band ; 
But  hear  oux  cry :  mark  well  the  uplifted  hand. 

Keep  watch  around  the  gate.  III  2 

Save  Thebes  in  her  dire  strait. 
Kind  powers  that  ever  shield  her  from  above  ! 

Recall  each  hallowed  rita 

And  aid  in  stress  of  fight 
Tills  people  that  have  shown  you  faithful  love : 
Think  of  your  altars,  and  our  saviours  prove  ! 

Eteocles. 
Tell  me,  ye  creatures  unendurable. 
Is  this  the  noblest  course,  the  State's  defence. 
The  rallying  note  for  our  beleaguered  men. 
That  ye  should  fall  before  each  public  shrine, 
With  your  shrill  outcry,  hated  of  the  wise  ? 
Neither  in  trouble  nor  kind  prosperous  days 
Let  me  be  housed  with  women  !     When  they  rula 
Their  boldness  is  the  bane  of  peaceful  life ; 


80  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [190-220 

And  once  afraid,  they  bring  worse  misery 

To  home  and  comitry.     Even  as  ye  to-day. 

Coursing  with  senseless  hurry  to  and  fro, 

Set  up  a  noise  that  genders  heartless  fear ; 

Whereby  the  foreigner's  advantage  grows. 

And  Thebes  is  ravaged  inly  by  ourselves. 

So  fares  the  man  whom  women  dwell  withal. 

Howbeit,  what  soul  soe'er  defies  my  sway. 

Woman  or  man  or  neither,  if  so  be, 

The  doom  of  ruin  with  fell  purpose  waits 

To  o'erwhelm  them  with  dire  stoning  of  the  folk. 

For  business  out  of  door  let  men  have  care. 

And  let  not  women  be  our  counsellors  ; 

Bide  within  doors,  nor  hinder  us.     Do  ye  hear  ? 

Or  do  I  prate  all  idly  to  deaf  ears  ? 

Chorus. 
Dear  prince  of  Laius'  line,  my  spirits  sank  I  1 

To  hear  the  rattling  chariot,  the  harsh  clank 
Of  nave  on  axle  of  the  whirling  wheel. 
Hark,  hark  !  the  fire-forged  steel 
That  rudder-like  controls  the  hard-mouthed  steed 
Is  jangling  with  his  motion  of  dire  speed. 

Et.  And  when  the  ship  is  labouring  in  mid  seas. 
Say,  doth  the  sailor  fly  from  stem  to  stern. 
So  to  find  rescue  from  a  watery  death  ? 

Cho.  Firmly  believing  in  the  powers  divine        I  2 
I  hurried  forward  to  each  ancient  shrine  ; 
When  round  our  gates  the  deadly  hail-shower  flew. 

Nearer  in  prayer  I  drew 
To  the  blest  gods,  driven  by  my  fears,  that  they 
Might  shield  our  town  with  their  immortal  sway. 

Et.  Pray  that  these  walls  may  fend  the  foeman's 
spear. 

Cho.  Yea,  while  the  gods  uphold  them. 

Et.  Nay,  the  gods 

Desert,  'tis  said,  the  conquered  country's  domes. 

Cho.  Ne'er  in  my  lifetime  let  yond'  holy  throng    II  I 
Desert  my  land,  nor  let  me  see  the  foe 


221-254]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  81 

Scouring  these  streets,  quelling  the  bold  and  strong 
In  fiery  overthrow  ! 
Et.  Temper  with  prudence  your  fond  piety. 
Obedience  is  the  mother  of  success — 
A  helpful  offspring.     So  tradition  holds. 

Cho.  True — but    the  strength   of    Heaven  is   over 
all,  II  2 

And  often  out  of  depths  of  dire  despair, 
God  lifts  the  hopeless  after  heaviest  fall. 
Though  dark  clouds  choke  the  air. 
Et.  Leave  it  to  men  to  render  sacrifice 
And  victims  to  the  gods  ;  when  foemen  strive, 
'Tis  thine  to  keep  indoors  and  hold  thy  peace. 

Cho.  Through  gods  we  hold  our  city  unsubdued.  III  1 
And  these  towers  brave  the  tide  of  foomen  rude. 
What  wrath  can  that  call  down  ? 

Et.  I  grudge  no  honour  thou  wouldst  pay  to  Heaven ; 
But  keep  thy  panic  within  bounds,  nor  move 
Uur  men  to  cowardice.     Therefore  be  calm. 

Cno.  Hearing    the   unwonted    din,  with  fears   dis- 
traught III  2 
The  topmost  sanctuary  I  straightway  sought — 
Dread  seat  of  blest  renown. 
Et.  Now  then,  if  ye  be  told  that  some  are  slain 
Or  wounded,  catch  not  at  the  news  with  cries. 
The  War-god  feeds  him  with  the  slaughter  of  men. 
Cho.  Lo,  there  !     I  hear  the  chargers  neighing  high  ! 
Et.  Then  make  not  too  apparent  what  ye  hear. 
Cho.  The  town's  foundation  groans  !     They  close  us 

round  ! 
Et.  Is't  not  enough  I  am  taking  thought  for  that  ? 
Cho,  Battering  at  gates  grows  loud !     I  am  full  of 

dread  ! 
Et.  Go  to  !  speak  nought  of  this  for  Thebes  to  hear. 
Cho.  O  gathered  powers,  forsake  not  our  strong  wall  ! 
Et.  a  plague  on  you  !     Be  silent  and  endure. 
Cho.  Dear  fellow-Theban  gods  !     No  bonds  for  me  I 
Et.  You  bring  them  on  yourself  and  all  the  town. 


82  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [255-290 

Cho.  Almighty  Zeus,  send  lightning  on  our  foes  ! 

Et.  O  Zeus,  in  women  what  a  race  thou  gavest ! 

Cno.  Wretched,  as  men  are,  in  captivity. 

Et.  Again  you  cling  to  yonder  shrines  and  cry. 

Cho.  My  heart  is  weak ;   terror  usurps  my  tongue. 

Et.  Yet  grant  to  my  desire  one  light  request. 

Cno.  Wouldst  thou  but  name  it !     Let  me  hear  and 
know. 

Et.  Cease    talking,    wretched   one,    fright   not   thy 
friends. 

Cho.  I  have  done.     With  others  I  will   bear  my 
doom. 

Et.  That  speech  of  thine  I  am  better  pleased  withal. 
Besides,  I  bid  you,  standing  well  away 
From  the  images,  hope  ever  for  the  best. 
Looking  to  Heaven  for  succour.     Hear  my  vow. 
And  answer  it  with  joyous  voiceful  hymn. 
As  wont  is  at  Hellenic  sacrifice. 
Heartening  to  friends,  dispersing  hostile  fear 
I  vow  to  all  our  land-sustaining  gods. 
Both  of  the  plain,  and  the  mid-market-place. 
To  Dirce's  fountain  and  Ismenus'  stream. 
When  all  is  Avell,  and  Thebe  rests  secure. 
That  we  will  stain  with  blood  of  bulls  and  sheep 
The  hearths  and  homes  of  the  gods,  and  thereabove 
Uprear  our  trophies,  fastening  to  their  walls. 
With  captive  spears,  the  raiment  of  our  foes 
Festooned  around  their  temples.     Hereunto 
Add  ye  your  prayers  and  ollerings,  not  with  groans 
Or  vain  repeating  of  wild  babblement. 
Seeing  nought  hereof  will  alter  destiny. 
I  go  to  find  six  champions  wiio,  with  me 
For  seventh,  shall  stand  at  our  seven  outward  ports  ; 
Ere  hurried  message  and  swift-rumoured  newd 
Astound  us  with  the  blaze  of  utmost  need.         [Exit 

Chorus. 
My  reason  yields,  but  soothes  not  these  alarms.        I  1 
For  anxious  thoughts,  close  to  my  spirit's  core, 
Rekindle  evermore 


290-332]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  83 

The  flame  of  terror  for  these  leaguering  arms ; 
Even  as  some  dove  beside  the  serpent's  lair 
Broods  all  a-tremble  o'er  her  nestlings  there. 

^^^lat  shall  be  done  ?     Our  walls  are  strong  ; 

Yet  onward  moves  their  countless  throng, 
A  tirm  compacted  ring  ! 

While,  cresting  that  tumultuous  tide, 

Their  hurrying  bands  from  every  side 
The  deadly  hand-stone  fling. 
O  Zeus-born  powers,  from  heaven  descend. 
And  Cadmus'  children  mightily  defend  ! — 

Say,  to  what  land  of  warriors  should  ye  go  12 

Forsaking  Thebe's  plain  of  fertile  soil. 

And  yielding  to  the  foe 
Dirce's  dear  fountain,  to  the  sons  of  toil 
Most  nourishing  of  all  the  streams  that  flow 
By  gift  of  him  whose  waves  enfold  the  earth. 
Or  that  from  sons  of  Tethys  have  their  birth  ? 

Then,  guarding  still  this  ancient  town, 

Win  from  our  citizens  renown, 
Sending  on  yonder  host 

The  homicidal  power  of  flight 

That  guides  nor  shield  nor  spear  aright. 
But  yields  all  arms  for  lost. 
Then  'mid  loud  praises  shall  ye  stand 
On  lofty  thrones,  defenders  of  our  land. 

'Twere  full  of  pity,  sure,  to  plunge  in  night        II   I 
A  land  thus  grey  with  time,  the  Achaians'  prey 
And  spear-driven  captive,  in  forlorn  despite 
Heaven-strewn  with  ashes  in  her  evil  day, — 
To  see  dragged  off  to  bondage  by  the  hair. 
As  fillies  by  the  mane — their  garments  fair 
Being  rent  around  them — maids  and  elder  dames  ; 
While  all  the  city  that  escapes  the  flames 
Is  filled  with  outcry,  ransacked  and  laid  bare, 
'Alidst  clamour  of  wild  rapine,  waste,  despair, 

Confusion  ! — I  foresee  with  fear 
The  heavy  hand  of  ruin  hovering  near. — 


84  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [333-368 

Piteous,  ere  lawful  rites  may  cull  the  flower,       II  2 

Fresh  from  child-nurture,  for  a  journey  strange 

And  horrible  to  leave  the  virgin-bower  ; 

Nay,  death  were  better  than  such  forceful  change. 

Ah,  much  unhappiness,  when  cities  fall. 

Finds  harbourage  -nithin  the  battered  wall ; 

Slaughter,  captivity,  the  flaring  brand. 

Death,  rapine,  conflagration  on  each  hand. 

While  the  mad  War-god,  breathing  hate  to  all 

The  reverence  he  besmirches,  hastes  to  enthrall 

The  people,  and  with  blood  and  smoke 
Mars  the  fan.-  town,  that  quails  beneath  the  stroke. 

Weird,  hollow  noises  haunt  the  frighted  streets.     III  1 

\Miere  man  his  foeman  meets 
And  falls  ;  the  fenced  towers  are  netted  round. 

While  tender  cries  resound 
From  infant  throats,  lato  feeding  at  the  breast. 

Bleeding  and  torn  from  the  maternal  nest. 
Plunder  and  hurly-burly  hand  in  hand. 

Own  sisters,  range  the  land  ; 
As  robber  upon  burdened  robber  falls, 

And  greed  on  hunger  calls 
For  partner  of  his  booty  and  his  toil, — 
Each  eager  to  have  most  when  all  divide  the  gpoil. 
How  fares  it  with  the  spoiled  ?     I  need  not  tell  : 
Whoe'er  can  reason  may  conjecture  well. — 

All  manner  of  produce  lying  at  random  round.     III  2 

Cast  forth  upon  the  ground. 
Cuts  to  the  heart  sad  seneschals  who  gaze. 

And  see  in  tangled  maze 
The  precious  foison  of  all  bounteous  Earth 
On  that  rough  surge  drifted,  as  nothing  vrorth. 
Young  captive  maids  lind  for  their  earliest  grief 

A  sorrow  past  rehef, 
The  rude  lust  of  an  overbearing  lord. 

AVhat  help  can  hope  aiford  ? 
Ruthless  in  triumph  is  the  exulting  foe. 
Death  is  their  only  hope,  the  only  friend  they  know. 


368-405]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  85 

For  him  they  look  to  close  their  eyes  in  night 
And  free  them  from  wild  weeping  and  affright. 

Leader  of  Chorus,  Dear    maids,     methinks    the 
scout  from  the  army  brings 
New  tidings  for  our  ears.     His  nimble  feet 
Run  as  on  wheels,  urged  by  his  eager  will. 
And  lo  !  the  prince  himself,  of  Laius'  line, 
Comes  fittingly  to  take  the  man's  report. 
He,  too,  moves  eagerly  with  steps  of  haste. 

Mess.  With  perfect  knowledge  I  will  tell  thee  now 
The  purpose  of  the  foe :  which  port  by  lot 
Each  chief  assails. — Tydeus  already  shouts 
To  assault  the  Proetan  gate,  but  the  wise  seer 
Forbids  to  cross  the  Ismenus,  for  the  signs 
Are  adverse.     Tydeus,  mad  with  battle-thirst, 
A  noon-day  dragon,  screams,  reviling  sore 
The  prophet  Amphiaraiis,  Oecles'  son. 
With  taunts  of  cowardice,  as  tendering  life 
Too  dearly  ;  thus  he  roars,  and  proudly  waves 
The  triply-shadowing  plume  of  his  bright  helm. 
Beneath  his  buckler  bells  of  brazen  tone 
Clang  terror,  and  it  bears  this  haughty  sign — 
A  heaven  ablaze  with  stars,  cunningly  wrought, 
While  beaming  on  mid-shield  the  orbed  moon, 
Eye  of  the  night,  queen  among  stars,  appears. 
Thus  rampant  in  his  over-daring  arms 
Shouts  on  the  river  brink  this  lover  of  war. 
Like  fiery  steed  that  pants  upon  the  bit 
And  strains  to  start,  hearing  the  trumpet  sound. 
Wliat  adversary,  when  the  Proetan  gate 
Is  opened,  wilt  thou  trust  to  oppose  him  there  ? 

Ex.  I  blench  at  no  man's  blazon,  fear  no  wound 
From  emblems :  plumes  and  bells  without  the  spear 
Hurt  not.     Nay,  more.     This  night  whereof  thou  tellest 
Portrayed  upon  his  shield  with  heavenly  signs, 
May  hold  a  mystic  meaning,  rightly  weighed. 
If  night  shall  tall  upon  his  eyes  in  deatli. 
This  proud  device  will  designate  aright 
The  destined  downfall  of  the  shield-bearer. 


86    .  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [406-443 

WTiose  insolent  thought  thus  prophesies  his  end. 
For  adversary  to  defend  the  gate 
I  will  appoint  the  son  of  Astacus, 
Melanippus  here,  a  man  of  noble  strain, 
One  who  reveres  the  throne  of  modesty, 
And  hates  high-vaunting  words  ;  of  bearing  still 
And  quiet,  save  where  honour  stirs  him  on  ; 
Sprung  from  that  remnant  whom  the  War-god  spared 
Of  the  earth-born  seed, — a  true  son  of  the  soil. 
The  powers  of  war  shall  rule  the  event ;  but  he 
By  law  of  kindred  predetermined  stands 
From  his  own  mother  to  repel  the  foe. 

Cho.  Gods,   grant  our  warrior  good  success  !     He 
goes  I  1 

A  rightful  champion  to  withstand  our  foes. 
Trembhng  I  look,  lest  precious  lives  be  spent 
For  precious  lives  in  bootless  hardiment. 

Mess.  Well  may  he  prosper  with  the  help  of  Heaven  ! 
The  Electran  gate  hath  fallen  to  Capaneus, 
A  Titan  form  yet  taller  than  the  first, 
Wliose  threatful  vaunt  surpasses  human  pride. 
Fortune  forbid  the  accomplishment :     He  swears, 
God  willing  or  not  willing,  he  will  scale 
The  wall  and  sack  the  city,  though  from  Heaven 
Dread  Discord  stalk  the  plain  to  beat  him  back. 
Zeus'  thunderbolts  and  lightning  he  compares 
To  beams  of  summer  noon-day.     For  a  sign 
He  bears  a  man  vmarmed  with  lighted  brand 
For  single  weapon,  whose  announcement  runs 
In  golden  letters,  '  I  will  burn  your  town.' 
What  adversary  shall  cope  with  one  so  bold 
Or  bide  undaunted  such  a  challenger  ? 

Et.  This  blazon,  too,  breeds  profit  for  our  cause, 
Since  of  vain  thoughts  men's  tongues  accusing  them 
Fail  not  of  judgement.     Capaneus  is  loud 
In  threats  which  he  will  wreak  in  scorn  of  Heaven. 
Through  foolish  transport  his  incautious  tongue 
With  mortal  vehemence  hurls  against  the  sky 
Big  billowy  words  to  offend  the  supreme  ear. 


444-479]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  87 

But  I  am  confident  the  flash  will  come 

Of  righteous  vengeance  to  transpierce  his  pride, 

Armed  with  a  flame  in  no  wise  comparable 

To  Helios'  noontide  warmth.     Yet,  man  to  man. 

He,  too,  though  proud,  shall  find  his  opposite. 

Burning  with  valour,  Polvphontes  fierce, 

Well  warranted  for  wardship,  by  the  grace 

Of  Artemis,  with  other  powers  to  aid. 

Now  tell  us  of  another  challenger 

Standing  for  Argos  at  a  different  port. 

Cho.  Perish  the  man  who  vaunts  his  impious  force  I  2 
Against  our  town  !     May  Heaven  arrest  his  course 
With  lightning,  ere  his  over-mastering  power 
Have  torn  my  life  from  the  protecting  bower  ! 

Mess.  I'll  tell  thee  who  stand^s  next  to  assault  a  gate. 
The  third  lot  from  the  upturned  brazen  helm 
Leapt  for  Eteoclus,  whom  Fortune  bids 
Assail  the  port  Neistan  with  his  troop. 
Thither  he  wheels  his  chargers,  snorting  loud 
With  eagerness  to  dash  against  the  gate. 
Their  nozzle-pipes,  in  savage  fashion  filled 
With  boastful  breath,  give  forth  a  shrilly  sound ; 
And  on  his  shield  no  mean  device  is  shown : — 
A  warrior,  armed,  chmbs  up  a  ladder  set 
Against  a  tower  manned  by  his  enemies. 
As  bound  to  carry  it  by  storm,  and  cries 
(Here  too  the  legend  is  distinct  and  clear), 
*  Not  ares'  self  shall  throw  me  from  the  wall  ! ' 
To  oppose  him,  too,  send  one  well-warranted 
To  ward  from  Thebes  the  yoke  of  servitude. 

Et.  I  would  send  him  without  fail,  but  by  good  hap 
He  is  passed  already  forth,  great  Creon's  son 
Megareus,  of  th'  earthborn  seed,  who  shall  not  yield 
His  station  at  the  gate  for  any  steed's 
Wild  snortings,  but  will  either  die  and  pay 
The  boon  land  for  his  nurture,  or  will  take 
Two  armours  and  the  city  on  the  shield 
For  his  own  prize  to  adorn  his  father's  halL 


88  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [479-513 

He  bears  no  blazon  but  his  own  right  arm. 
Brag  now — and  stint  not — the  next  challenger. 

Cho.  May    fortune    speed    thee    ('tis    my    fervent 
prayer)  II  1 

0  champion  of  our  homes  ;  ill  may  they  fare 
Who  vaunt  high  words  against  our  city's  peace  ! 
According  to  their  madness  of  intent 

May  wrathful  Zeus  look  down  in  punishment 
And  cause  their  pride  to  cease. 

Mess.  Fourth  challenger,  with  noisy  vehemence. 
At  the  gate  neighbouring  Pallas  Onka,  stands 
The  portly  stature  of  Hippomedon. 

1  will  e'en  confess  I  shuddered  as  he  whirled 
That  disk  so  vast,  I  mean  his  orbed  shield. 
No  commonplace  engraver  framed  the  sign 
On  that  circumference.     'Tis  Typhon,  pouring 
Through  fiery  jaws  black  smoke— to  flickering  flame 
Own  sister.     And  about  the  hollow  womb 

Of  that  firm  orb  are  fixed,  as  on  a  ground. 
Twined  wreaths  of  serpents.     He  himself  moreover. 
Shouted,  as  with  the  War-god's  spirit  possessed. 
He  raves  for  conflict  with  fear-striking  glance 
As  of  a  Bacchanal.     Such  foe's  assault 
Calls  for  much  care  in  the  defence.     Aheady 
Menace  of  rout  is  rife  at  yonder  gate. 

Ex.  First,  Pallas  Onka  shall  defend  her  own. 
Hating  the  man's  insensate  arrogance. 
She  dwells  beside  our  city  at  that  gate. 
To  guard  her  brood  as  from  the  serpent's  tooth. 
Then  for  a  man  to  meet  him,  Oenops'  son. 
Valiant  Hyperbius  hath  been  chosen,  a  man 
Willing  to  know  Fate's  pleasure  in  the  event : — 
In  form  and  spirit,  as  in  panoply. 
Flawless.     The  lottery's  chance  by  Hermes'  skill 
Hath  matched  them  not  amiss.     The  men  are  foes. 
And  hostile  each  to  each  the  gods  they'll  bear 
Grappling  together  on  their  shields :  the  one 
Typhon,  tlame-breathing,  whilst  Hyperbius 
Hath  father  Zeus  for  blazon,  seated  firm. 


514-547]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  89 

In  act  of  onset,  lightning-bolt  in  hand. 
And  no  man  yet  hath  seen  Zeus  overcome. 
Such  benefit  of  aid  divine  have  we  : — 
Victorious  powers  for  us  ;   vanquished  for  thera. 
Whence  one  may  argue  that  the  men  opposed 
May  hkewise  fare  : — Zeus  is  a  combatant 
Of  valour  more  than  Typlion,  and  shaU  save 
Hyperbius  with  the  blazoned  lightning  there. 

Cho.  I  firmly  hope  the  warrior  who  doth  wield     II  2 
The  rebel  monster's  form  upon  his  shield — 
The  foe  of  Zeus  that  gods  and  mortals  hate. 
The  loveless  earthborn  power  Avhom  one  and  all. 
Divine  and  human,  execrate, — shall  fall 
Head-iirst  before  the  gate. 

Mess.  Even  so  may  it  prove  !     And  now  the  fifth 
I  name. 
Appointed  to  the  fifth,  the  northward  port, 
Hard  by  Zeus-born  Amphion's  holy  tomb. 
He  by  the  spear  he  wields,  which  he  doth  worship 
Beyond  all  gods,  prizing  it  more  than  sight. 
Swears  he  will  sack  Thebe  by  force  of  war. 
Such  vow,  such  prayer  is  his,  the  fair-faced  man 
Of  boyish  mien,  the  mountain  mother's  pride. 
The  downy  growth  of  genial  youthful  bloom 
Peers  freshly  on  his  cheek,  but  lush  and  full. 
With  spirit  unlike  his  maiden-sounding  name. 
With  ruthless  heart  and  flashing  glance,  he  comes. 
Kor  without  blazon  stands  he  at  your  gate. 
Since  on  the  brass-forged  rounded  shield  he  throws 
Before  his  goodly  person,  he  displays 
Thebe's  reproach,  the  Hve-devouring  Sphinx, 
Riveted  on,  a  bright  embofsed  device. 
Beneath  whose  figure  a  Cadmeian  man 
Is  so  disposed  that  of  all  shafts  i'  the  fight 
Most  shall  be  hurled  at  him.     This  hero  moves 
As  minded  to  deal  wholesale  with  his  foes. 
Nor  bring  disgrace  on  his  long  journeying 
From  far  Arcadia,  whence  to  Argolis 
Parthenopaeus  came  ;  a  sojourner 


90  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [547-5 S2 

Who  means  to  pay  his  debt  of  maintenance 
By  wreaking  on  these  towers  such  menace  huge 
As  I  pray  Heaven  the  gods  may  render  void. 
Ex.  Ay,  let  the  gods  but  visit  their  intents 
With  hke  for  like  ;  they  and  their  impious  vaunts 
Shall  utterly  be  quenched  in  misery. 
For  your  Arcadian,  he  too  hath  his  match  : 
A  man  not  given  to  boasting,  but  whose  arm 
Fails  not  at  need  ;  brother  of  him  last  named. 
Actor.     No  deedless  tongue,  how  bold  soe'er. 
Shall  by  his  leave  rush  in  to  vex  our  town 
With  evil  menace  ;  nor  will  he  permit 
The  man  who  bears  upon  his  hostile  shield^ 
That  hateful  ravening  plague,  to  enter  here. 
But  she  ^\^thout  shall  wrangle  with  the  chief 
W^ho  brings  her  Thebes-ward,  since  beneath  these  walla 
She  is  battered  so  unsparingly.     May  Heaven 
But  grant  my  bold  vaticination  true  ! 

Cho.  My  bosom  thrills,  pierced  through  with  words 
of  fear:  III  I 

Jly  plaited  hair  starts  upright.  When  I  hear 
The  high-voiced  vauntings  of  that  impious  band. 
May  Heaven  destroy  them  yonder  in  our  land  ! 

Mess.  I  come  to  the  sixth  challenger,  a  man 
Of  perfect  temperance,  most  brave  in  war. 
The  valiant  prophet  Amphiaraiis  :  he, 
Embattled  at  the  Homoloian  gate. 
Breaks  forth  on  Tydeus  with  reproaches  loud 
And  manifold :  '  Author  of  many  deaths. 
Mover  of  Argos  unto  evil  ways. 
The  fury's  summoner,  grim  slaughter's  page, 
Adrastus'  counsellor  in  all  this  ill ; ' 
Then  calhng  on  thy  brother,  glancing  back 
On  your  sire's  awful  fate,  naming  the  son 
In    Ihe    end    twice    o'er, — '  PoljTiices,    fraught    with 

strife,' — 
He  thus  denounces  him  :  '  A  goodly  deed, 
Admired  of  Heaven,  well-fitting  to  be  told 
And  heard  by  times  to  come,  to  sack  and  burn 


582-618]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  91 

One's  native  town,  profaning  all  the  gods  , 

Of  one's  own  race,  mining  hearth  and  home 

With  rash  invasion  of  an  alien  league  ! 

\^'liat  right  may  countervail  a  mother's  claim, 

Or  dry  that  well-spring  ?     How  then  shall  the  land 

^Mience  thou  art  sprung,  made  captive  by  thy  will, 

E'er  be  thy  friend  to  fight  for  thee  ? — 'Tis  mine 

To  enrich  this  soil,  a  prophet  underground 

Within  the  border  of  my  foes.     Then,  on  ! 

I  hail  the  battle,  hoping  for  an  end 

Not  void  of  honour.'     Thus  the  prophet  cried, 

And  reared  his  shield  of  massy  bronze.     No  sign 

Blazed  on  that  orb,  for  'tis  his  firm  intent 

Not  to  seem  noblest,  but  to  be  ;  so  reaping 

Rich  harvest  of  deep-furrowed  thoughtfulness 

That  brings  forth  fruit  of  counsel  wise  and  true. 

Send,  then,  to  labour  at  the  opposing  oar, 

Men  of  tried  skill  and  trust.     The  righteous  man 

Who  fears  the  blessed  gods,  is  to  be  feared. 

Et.  Woe  worth  the  auspice  of  the  day  that  joins 
The  righteous  with  the  worst  of  evil  men  ! 
That  grain  hath  no  ingathering.     The  tilth 
Of  madness  brings  forth  death.     Either  at  sea. 
Embarked  with  hot-brained  sailors  bent  on  crime, 
The  pious  perisheth  with  that  fell  crew 
Abhorred  of  Heaven  ;  or,  loving  righteousness, 
But  dwelling  in  a  city  of  bad  men 
Forgetful  of  the  gods,  inhospitable. 
He  is  caught  in  the  same  toils  of  vengeful  doom. 
And,  by  the  universal  scourge  o'ertaken. 
Is  quelled.     Even  so  this  prophet,  Oecles'  son. 
Just,  faithful,  temperate,  pious  and  brave. 
Potent  with  inspiration,  being  conjoined 
Maugre  his  judgement  with  their  impious  threats 
Who  lead  from  far  this  onslaught  on  our  land. 
Shall  with  them  be  o'er  whelmed  by  the  act  of  Heaven! 
Yet  hardly  can  I  think  he  will  come  near 
To  assail  the  gate, — not  through  faint-heartedness. 
But  knowing  he  must  die  in  that  assault. 
Or  else  make  void  the  word  of  Loxias, 


92  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [619-653 

Who  speaks  not  save  in  season.     Ne'er  the  less 
We  will  appoint  his  match,  tall  Lasthenes, 
A  gate-keeper  not  kind  to  comers-in. 
One  old  in  wisdom  though  of  youthful  frame. 
An  eye  of  nimble  range,  a  hand  not  slow 
To  wrest  the  spear  uncovered  of  the  shield. 
Howbeit,  good  fortune  is  the  gift  of  Heaven. 

Cho.  Hearken,    ye     gods,    to    our     most     rightful 
prayer !  lil  2 

Grant  that  our  city  nobly  still  may  fare  ; 
Against  the  invader  turn  the  troublous  fight. 
Heaven-smitten  bej^ond  the  barriers,  in  our  sight ! 

Mess.  Seventh  by  lot  to  the  seventh  gate  assigned 
Is  thine  own  brother.     Listen,  while  I  tell 
What  issue  he  desires,  what  cause  he  invokes  : 
Either  to  set  his  foot  upon  your  wall 
Proclaimed  your  city's  lord,  and,  with  a  shout 
Of  triumph  in  her  capture,  there  to  meet 
With  thee  in  conflict,  slay  thee,  and  be  slain 
Together  ;  or,  both  living,  be  revenged. 
Banishing  thee  his  banisher,  even  so 
As  thou  didst  outrage  kinship  on  his  head. 
So  Pol.\Tiices  cries,  and  in  his  rage 
Bids  ail  the  gods  of  his  own  land  and  race 
Visit  his  prayer  with  full  accomplishment. 
His  new-wrought  buckler,  lightly  swayed,  hath  on   it 
A  twofold  token,  to  the  purpose  framed ; 
A  man  of  beaten  gold,  in  panoply. 
As  'twould  appear,  is  led  by  a  fair  dame 
Full  modestly  attired,  whose  legend  runs. 
In  letters  all  of  gold. — '  Justice  am  I ! 
And  I  ^^^LL  re-establish  in  ms  right 
This  warrior  here  ;  he  shall  return  and  rulb 
His  native  city  and  his  father's  house.' 
I  tell  thee  their  devices  ;  'tis  for  thee 
To  judge  whom  thou  wilt  send  : — mine  to  report ; 
And  thou  shalt  find  all  my  reporting  true  : — 
Thine  to  be  Thebd's  pilot  in  the  storm. 

Ex.  O  Heaven -infatuate,  God-abandoned  ! 


654-6S9]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  93 

O  race  of  Oedipus,  our  race,  ill-starred  ! 

Woe  '3     me,    my    fathers    curse    even    now    comes 

true. 
Yet  ill  would  it  beseem  me  here  to  weep  ; 
Lest  tears  give  birth  to  heavier  cause  of  woe. 
But  for  this  man  of  strife,  for  Polynices, 
Soon  shall  be  known  the  end  of  that  device. 
If  the  gold  writing  on  his  shield  emblazed. 
And  blatant  with  wild  hopes,  shall  bring  him  home. 
Had  Justice,  virgin  daughter  of  the  Highest, 
Truly  attended  him  in  thought  and  deed, 
This"^  might  have  been.     But  never  upon  him. 
Neither  in  issuing  from  the  darkhng  womb. 
Nor  in  the  dawn  and  springtime  of  his  youth, 
Nor  when  the  manly  growth  upon  his  chin 
Was  gathering,  hath  great  Justice  looked  and  smiled. 
Nor  in  his  native  country's  sore  distress 
]May  I  believe  she'll  stand  by  him  to-day. 
Unjustly  would  she  bear  the  honoured  nam© 
Of  Justice,  to  consort  with  that  rash  mind. 
Whereon  relying,  I  will  go  forth  and  stand 
Myself  to  oppose  him : — who  more  fit  than  I  ? 
Commander  with  commander,  foe  with  foe, 
Brother  with  brother,  I  will  conflict.     Bring  forth 
Jly  greaves,  to  fend  the  sling-stone  and  the  spear  ! 

Cho.  Dear  son  of  Oedipus,  let  not  thy  mood 
Be  like  to  his  of  the  ill-omened  name  ! 
Enough  that  Argive  and  Cadmcian  come 
To  the  issue :  blood  so  shed  hath  power  to  cleanse. 
But  death  of  brothers,  each  by  a  brother's  hand, — 
That  were  a  stain  no  time  could  purify. 

Et.  If  ill  must  come,  let  honour  be  secure  ; 
No  other  gain  accrues  to  men  when  dead. 
The  craven  dastard  hath  no  glory  in  death. 

Cho.  Dear  prince,  what  wouldst  thou  do  ?     Let  not 
the  force  I  1 

Of  this  war-fever  rule  thy  headlong  course. 
But  quench  this  fatal  longing  at  the  source. 

Et.  Since  Heaven  this  consummation  hastens  on. 


94  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [690-719 

Let  Laius'  seed,  caught  by  Cocytus'  flood. 
Drift  doAvn  the  tide,  victims  of  Phoebus'  ire. 

Cho.  Too  sharply  urgeth  thee  the  savage  sting  I  2 
Of  strong  desire  unto  thy  home  to  bring 
Dire  harvest  of  unlawful  blood-shedding. 

Et.  Cruelly  near  in  kin,  my  father's  curse. 
Close  on  fulfilment,  with  dry  tearless  look 
Tells  of  things  more  desired  than  death's  delay. 

Cho.  Yet  haste  not  thou,  but  win  both   hfe  and 
fame  !  II  1 

No  taint  of  cowardice  shall  touch  thy  name. 
The  Erinj'S-storm  shall  leave  thy  home  and  land 
When  Heaven  hath  free-will  offerings  from  thy  hand. 

Et.  Heaven  hath  forgotten  us,  or  with  blank  stare 
Wonders  at  sacrifice  from  men  fore-doomed. 
Wliy  fawn  on  Fate  when  in  the  grips  of  Death  ? 

Cho.  Nay,  seize  the  time  that  offers  ;  Heaven,  though 
late,  II  2 

]May  veer  and  alter  ;  even  the  blast  of  Fate, 
That  now  against  thy  peace  blows  fierce  and  rude. 
May  change  hereafter  to  some  milder  mood. 

Et.  Fate  rages,  for  the  curse  of  Oedipus 
Is  come  to  ripeness,  and  the  visioned  dream. 
Parting  our  patrimony,  was  too  true. 

Cho.  Let  women  rule  thee,  though  thou  rail'st  on 

them. 
Et.  Speak,  then,  to  purpose  and  be  brief. 
Cno.  Go  not 

On  this  emprise  to  guard  the  seventh  gate. 

Et.  I  am   too  sharp  set  for  words  to  blunt  mine 

edge. 
Cho.  Heaven  favours  victory  though  won  by  fear. 
Et.  a  maxim  not  for  warriors  to  approve  ! 
Cho.  And  wilt  thou  reap  the  life  of  thine  ov\ti  brother? 
Et.  God  willing,  he  shall  not  escape  his  doom. 

[Exit 


720-7473     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  95 

Chorus. 
I  am  shuddering  with  sad  fear  I  1 

Of  the  ruin  hovering  near. 
Lest  the  power  of  godless  might 
Ahen  from  the  lords  of  light, 
Seer  infallible  of  ill, 
Dark  Erinys,  should  fulfil 
Oedipus'  infatuate  vov/s 
'Gainst  the  children  of  his  house. 
Still  she  holds  her  destined  path 
Prompted  by  a  father's  wTatii  : 
Now  this  child-destroying  strife 
Lends  her  purpose  instant  life. 

Ruthless  Iron  swajrs  the  lot  I  2 

That  shall  portion  them  the  plot 

Each  shall  hold ;  a  stranger  he 

From  the  Scythian  colony 

That  came  o'er  the  Pontic  deep 

To  Chalybia's  country  steep  : 

Stern  divider,  judge  severe  ! 

What  possession  hnd  they  here  ? 

What  their  heritage  ?     So  much 

As  the  dead  man's  corse  may  touch. 

So  much  either  shall  obtain. 

Nothing  more  of  all  yon  plain. 

When  fratricidal  death  II  1 

Hath  stopped  their  raging  breath, 
And  Earth's  dust  drunk  dark  draughts  of  sinful  gore, 

What  charm  may  purge  the  guilt 

Of  blood  so  foully  spilt  ? 
^Tiose  hand  shall  bathe  them  ?     O  unhappy  store 
Of  fresh  woes  for  this  house,  blent  with  the  woes  before  ! 

I  mourn  that  ancient  crime  II  2 

Rued  by  all  after-time, — 
Three  generations  now  have  borne  the  weight, 
Since — maugre  Phoebus'  word 
Thrice  from  the  tripod  heard. 


96  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [748-782 

How  'twas  the  constant  will  of  sovran  Fate, 
That,   dying   without  seed,    he   should   preserve   the 
state — 

Laius,  by  love  o'ercome.  III  1 

Begat  his  own  sure  doom. 
Sad  Oedipus,  the  slayer  of  his  sire. 

Who  ploughed  the  field  where  erst 

His  embryo  bones  were  nurst. 
And  reared  a  crop  that  bloomed  in  murderous  ire. 
Infatuate  bride  and  groom,  so  drawn  by  mad  desire ! 

Evils  are  like  a  surge  III  2 

Where  billows  billows  urge : 
Each  peers  three-crested  o'er  the  wave  that 's  gone. 

Thundering  abaft  the  helm, 

And  threatening  to  o'erwhelm 
Tlie  frail  defence  that  braves  that  waste  alone. 
I  fear  lest,  with  her  kings,  Thebes  may  be  now  o'er- 
thro'.vn. 

Wlien  dawns  the  Fate-appointed  day,  IV  1 

The  aged  curse  is  hard  to  allay. 
Once  here.  Destruction  rides  not  past 
Till  those  are  fallen  beneath  the  blast 
Whose  toil-earned  wealth,  too  highly  heaped. 
Brings  ruin,  and  the  man  hath  readied 
But  sacrifice  of  all  at  last. 

Who  more  admired  of  gods  and  men  IV  2 

Than  Oedipus  was  honoured  then, 

By  all  who  shared  the  city's  hearth. 

Drawing  rich  life  from  Theban  earth. 

When  he  had  freed  the  land  from  fear 

Of  the  Sphinx-monster  seated  near. 

Dire  minister  of  death  and  dearth  ? 

But  when  he  came  to  know  V  1 

The  measure  of  his  woe. 
That  wretched  wedlock  with  dire  anguish  fraught. 

Unequal  to  sustain 

The  stress  of  that  sore  pain 
A  tAVofoId  evil  his  rash  spirit  wrought. 


783-812]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  97 

First,  with  the  hand  that  smote  his  sire,  he  reft 
Himself  of  sight,  his  only  comfort  left. 

Then  with  his  children  wroth  V  2 

He  fiercely  launched  on  both 
A  savage  curse  for  their  unfilial  ways : 

How  with  steel-furnished  hand 

They  should  divide  his  land 
And  heritage  in  lapse  of  after  days. 
Even  now  the  fear  works  strongly  in  my  soul, 
The  Erinys  of  that  curse  runs  close  upon  her  goal. 

Enter  2nd  Messenger. 

2nd  Mess.  Take  courage,  children,  whom  the  mo- 
ther's care 
Keeps  tender ;  Thebe  hath  escaped  the  yoke 
Of  threatened  bondage  ;  her  impetuous  foes 
Are  fallen  from  their  pitch  of  vaunting  pride, 
While  she  sails  onward  under  smiling  skies, 
No  water  shipped  from  that  sore  buffeting. 
No  breach  in  all  her  towers,  no  port  unsure : 
So  firm  the  warrant  of  those  bulwarks  set 
Singly  to  guard  them.     All  but  all  is  well — 
All  in  six  gateways.     But  the  seventh  was  held 
By  a  dread  champion  self-appointed  there. 
For  there  Apollo  chose  to  bring  to  pass 
Of  Laius'  ancient  folly  the  Icvst  meed. 
Accomplished  on  the  stock  of  Oedipus. 

Cho.  What  worse  than  heretofore  afflicts  the  state  ? 

2nd  Mess.  They  are  fallen  in  death,  by  their  own 
kindred  slain. 

Cho.  Who  are  faUen  ?    What  say'st  thou  ?     I  am 
wild  with  dread. 

2nd  Mess.  Be  tame,  and  hearken.     Oedipus'   two 
sons — 

Cho.  Lie  yonder  ?     Terrible  !     Yet  tell  it  forth. 

2nd  Mess.     In  equal  soilure  of  indifferent  dust. 

Cho.  Too   near   in    dreadful    kinship  !    slaying    and 
slain  ! 


98  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [813-842 

2nd  Mess.  The  Genius  of  them  both  was  even  so  dire, 
So  undistinguishing  :    and  with  one  stroke 
Consigns  to  nothingness  that  hapless  race. 
Thus  joy  and  weeping  mingle.     We  rejoice 
Fov  Thebe  faring  gloriously,  but  Aveep 
For  her  two  chieftains,  generals  of  this  war. 
Who  with  the  hammered  strength  of  Scythian  steel 
Have  so  divided  their  inheritance. 
That,  carried  headlong  by  their  father's  curse, 
Ill-fated,  each  inherits  so  much  earth 
As  in  his  burial  he  may  occupy. 
Thebe  is  rescued :  but  her  princes  twain 
By  mutual  slaughter  fratricidally 
Are  perished :   their  own  land  hath  drunk  their  blood. 

Chorus. 
Mighty  Zeus  and  guardian  powers 
Rescuers  of  Cadmus'  towers. 
Shall  I  raise  the  joyous  cry 
For  the  scathless  victory 
Thebes  hath  won,  or  weep  and  mourn 
For  the  hapless  chiefs  forlorn 
Dying,  in  an  ill-starred  strife. 
Childless  in  the  morn  of  life  ? 
Impious  was  their  purpose  proud. 
Dire  the  fate  whereto  they  bowed. 
Rightly  answering  either  name  : 
Keen  in  strife  and  true  in  fame. 

O  fraught  with  gloom  I  1 

Curse  of  the  sire  upon  the  race  fulfilled  ! 
With  horror  at  my  heart  my  veins  are  chilled. 
A  funeral  Bacchante,  for  their  tomb 
A  dirge  I  have  framed,  how  on  the  battle  floor, 
Dreadfully  slain,  their  bodies  lie  in  gore. 

Sure  ominous  of  evil  doom 
This  warrior  fellowship  i'  the  open  field. 

The  father's  prayer  I  2 

For  e\-il  hath  full  course  and  doth  prevail ; 
Nor  doth  the  faithless  folly  of  Laius  fail, 


843-880]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  99 

Surrounding  Thebe  close  with  anxious  care, 
Since  the  oracles  lose  nothing  of  their  power. 
Past  thought  is  the  affliction  of  this  hour,— 

The  deed  of  that  ill-omened  pair. 
No  tragic  burden  of  a  poet's  tale. 

Cho.  1.  Our  horror  heaves  in  sight.     They  come, 
they  are  here. 

Cho.  2.  Two  cares,  two  proud  heroic  themes  of  woe. 

Cho.  1.  An  impious-fatal  end  on  either  bier. 

Cho.  2.  What  shall  I  say  ?   These  halls  their  sorrow 
know. 
Come,  let  the  measured  stroke  of  hand  on  brow 
Guide  the  sad  convoy  with  the  formless  prow 
And  sable  canvas,  on  her  sunless  way 
Where  bright  Apollo  never  brings  the  daj-, 
O'er  Acheron  with  winds  of  sighing  fanned 
Unto  the  viewless,  all-receiving  strand. 

See  !  with  reluctant  steps  and  slow 
Proportioned  to  the  task  of  woe, 
Antigone,  Ismene,  come, 
Bringing  their  brethren  to  the  tomb. 
Sui'ely  from  either  virgin  breast 
Deep-shrouded  in  ambrosial  vest, 
Rich  strains  of  heart-felt  grief  will  ring 
Noble  as  they  for  whom  they  spring. 

[2'he  Chorus  range  themselves  in  two  divisions, 

accompanying      Antigone      and      Ismene 

severally. 
Cho.  Oh  !  most  unhappy  in  your  brethren's  will 
Of  all  that  round  their  robes  the  cincture  wind, 
Our  tears,  our  groans,  our  lamentations  shrill 
Shall  prove  our  perfect  soul  and  faithful  mind. 

Ant.  0  men  perverse,  stubborn  to  friendly  rede,    1 1 
Not  to  be  daunted  from  your  evil  deed. 
The  war  ye  levied  hath  procured  the  fall, 
O  most  unhappy  !  of  your  father's  hall. 

H.  Cho.  1.  Yea  most  unliappy,  whose    all-hapless 
doom 
Brings  shame  and  ruin  on  their  natal  home. 


100  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES     [881-925 

Is.  Ye  that  have  ruined  what  your  fathers  built,  I  2 
With  fell  ambition  for  dire  ends  ye  spilt 
Each  the  other's  blood.     By  sovereignty  beguiled, 
With  interchange  of  steel  ye  are  reconciled. 

H.  Cho.  2.  W^ell  doth  the  fury  of  Oedipus  fulfil 
The  dread  presaging  of  a  father's  will. 

Ant.  Through  the  left  side  each  brother  took  the 
harm  II  I 

Launched  from  the  brother's  arm. 
Omen  twofold  of  monstrous  woe, 
0  curse  of  maddening  power,  directing  blow  for  blow  ! 

H.  Cho.  1.  That  stroke  with  voiceless  force 

Did  both  from  life,  from  home,  from  kin,  divorce. 
Possessed  through  their  own  father's  curse 
With  jarring  destiny  of  passionate  thoughts  perverse. 

Is.  Grief    holds    the   town,  the   wall,    the  peopled 
plain,  11  2 

While  to  their  heirs  remain 
The  riches  whence  the  quarrel  grew 
That  found  no  end  of  broils,  till  each  his  brother  slew. 

H.  Cho.  2.  Their  eager  hearts  of  rage 

With  equal  hand  have  shared  their  heritage ; 
Yet  the  arbiter  their  friends  may  blame. 
Nor   love  tliey  that  grim   power  who  sets  the  spirit 
atiame. 

Ant.     Tlirust  through  with  steel  they  lie        HI  1 
Spear-stricken  :  then  what  doom 
Waits  them  ?     Will  none  reply  ? 
H.  Cho.  1.    Peace  in  their  father's  tomb. 
Now  for  their  convoy  comes  from  forth  their  hall 
Heart-rending  grief's  true  note  of  melancholy 
With  gloomy  cheer,  and  tears  of  pission  holy 
Wrung  from  my  heart  that  pines  as  I  lament  tlieir  fall. 

Is.  Their  funeral  dirge  may  say —  III  2 

'  Much  harm  they  did  the  state. 
But  more,  in  bloody  fray, 

To  strange  hosts  at  the  gate.' 


926-965]     SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  101 

H.  Ceo.  2.  Toanevilfatetheirmothergavethembirth, 
Beyond  all  wives  who  have  won  the  name  of  mother  : 
She  wedded  her  own  child,  and,  each  by  other. 
Their  offspring  now  have  died,  slain  on  their  native 

earth. 
Close  kinship  merged  in  ruin  unalloyed  !  IV  1 

Mad  strife  that  ends  but  with  the  lives  destroyed  ! 
Fierce  arbitrator  of  insensate  feud. 
Divider  of  the  rights  of  brotherhood  ! 

H.  Cho,  1.  Their  hatred  ceases  in  the  crimsoned  soil. 
Full  brotherly  their  blood  is  mingling  now. 
A  cruel  judge  to  arbitrate  their  ire. 
That  Pontic  guest  was  moulded  in  the  fire. 
Cruel  and  hard  in  portioning  the  spoil 
The  War-god,  making  good  the  vengeful  father's  vow. 

What     gifts    from    Heaven    are     yours,    O    hapless 
pair  !  IV  2 

Each  finds  his  equal  portion  in  despair ; 
Of  earth  your  having  shall  be  rich  and  deep, 
Piled  underneath  your  everlasting  sleep. 

H.  Cho.  2.  With  many  an  ill  from  both  they  have 
chequered  o'er 
The  story  of  their  line,  till  at  the  last 
A  troop  of  curses  shrilled  the  battle-shout 
Putting  that  race  to  a  perpetual  rout. 
The  troT)hy  of  Mischance  is  reared  before 
The  gate  where,  both  o'erthrown,  the  conquering  Genius 
passed. 

Ajstt.  Smitten  thou  didst  smite. 
Is.  In  dying  thou  didst  slay. 

Ant.  With  spear  thou  slewest. 
Is.  With  spear  passedst  away. 

Axt.  Sad  quest, 
Is.  Sad  fate. 

Ant.  Was  thine  who  liest  low. 

Groans — 

Is.        Tears— 

Ant.  For  thee, — 

I3.  For  thee  who  gavest  the  blow. 


102  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  [966-1004 

Ant.  My  vext  soul  raves —  V  1 

Is.  My  heart  doth  inly  mourn — 

Ant.   For  thee  )  ^        q^^^  ^^^^,^       ■^^_ 
Is.       For  thee  )  '■ 

Is.  To  misery  born. 
Ant.  Killed  by  thine  own. 

Is.  Destined  thine  own  to  quell. 

Ant.  a  twofold  sorrow — 
Is.  To  behold— 

Ant.  To  tell. — 

The  burden  of  our  grief  is  drawing  near. 
Is.  Brother  to  sisters.     Brother,  I  am  here. 
Cho.  Fate,  o'er  our  heads  thy  potent  frown  doth 
lower  ; 

O  shade  of  Oedipus,  this  is  thine  hour ! 

O  dark  Erinys,  dreadful  is  thy  power  ! 

Ant.  Horrors  to  sight, —  V  2 

Is.  Returning,  thou  didst  bring. 

Ant.  Slaying,  but  not  saved. 

Is.  Lost  in  thy  home-coming. 

Ant.  Lost  and  destroying. 

Is.  He,  too,  gave  the  blow. 

Ant.  0  troublous  family  ! 
Is.  O  end  of  woe  ! 

Ant.  Like  tale  of  sorrows  that  the  spirit  quell ! 
Is.  Like  dreadful  to  behold,  like  dire  to  tell. 
Cno.  Fate,  o'er  our  heads  thy  potent  frouii  doth 
lower ; 

O  siiade  of  Oedipus,  this  is  thine  hour ! 

O  dark  Erinys,  dreadful  is  thy  power  ! 

Ant.  Thou  knowest  the  worst. 

Is.  And  thou,  in  one  event. 

Ant.  Since  thou  comest  home. 

Is.  To  oppose  him  with  the  spear. 

Ant.  To  afflict  thy  house  with  evil  hardiment. 

Is.  To  afHict  thy  land  that  mourns  around  thy  bier. 

Ant.  To  alilict  me  most. 

Is.  And  me  too,  more  than  all. 

Ant.  Of  all  ill-fated  ones — 


ICOS-I040]  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  lOS 

l3.  Eteocles  first ! 

Ant.  0  ye,  most  deeply  mourned  for  in  your  fall 
Is.  0  ye,  with  fratricidal  fury  accurst ! 
Where  shall  we  lay  them  ? 

Ant.  In  the  holiest  ground. 

Is.  Beside  their  sire  ?     Horrors  will  there  abound. 

Herald. 
'Tis  mine  to  announce  the  will  and  firm  decree 
Of  the  high  council  of  this  Thebaa  state. 
Eteocles,  as  loyal  to  his  land. 
Shall  be  insepulchred  beneath  her  shade : 
Free  from  otience  against  her  holy  things 
He  died  where  most  beseems  young  men  to  die. 
So  much  I  am  charged  to  speak  concerning  him. 
But  this,  his  brother  Polynices'  corpse, 
Graveless  shall  be  cast  forth  for  dogs  to  tear, 
As  minded  to  lay  waste  our  Theban  land. 
Had  not  some  god  stood  in  his  path  and  foiled 
His  spear :  dead  though  he  be,  his  country's  gods 
Shall  ban  him,  since  he  brought  in  their  despite 
A  foreign  host  to  invade  and  subjugate 
Their  city.     Wherefore  'tis  decreed  for  him 
To  reap  his  recompense  from  fowls  of  the  air 
In  shameful  burial.     No  drink-offerings 
Poured  on  his  tomb  by  careful  hands,  no  sound 
Of  dirgeful  wailing  shall  enhance  his  fame, 
Nor  following  of  dear  footsteps  honour  him. 
So  runs  the  enactment  of  our  Theban  lords. 

Ant.  But  I  make  answer  to  the  lords  of  Thebes, 
Though  none  beside  consent  to  bury  him, 
I  will  provide  my  brother's  funeral. 
I  will  face  that  danger,  recking  not  of  shame 
In  disobeying  so  the  state's  behest. 
Too  strong  for  that  the  tie  of  kindred  blood 
WTiich  binds  us,  sprung  from  two  unfortunates. 
That  mother  and  that  sire.     Then,  O  my  soul. 
Of  thine  own  living  will,  share  thou  the  wrongs 
Forced  on  the  helpless  dead :  be  leal  and  true. 
My  brother's  flesh  no  meagre-bellied  wolves 


104  SEVEN  AGAINST  THEBES  [1041-1084 

Sbalt  tsar  and  pull.     Let  no  man  dream  of  it. 
I,  though  a  woman,  will  prepare  his  mound. 
Carrying  the  earth  in  this  fine  garment's  fold. 
I  will  cover  him,  let  none  think  otherwise. 
Nay,  doubt  me  not !     Will  shall  devise  a  way. 

Her.  I  bid  thee  spare  this  violence  to  the  state. 

Ant.  I  bid  thee  spare  commands  beyond  thy  sphere. 

Her.  Be  warned  ;  a  people  rescued  knows  not  ruth. 

A2JT.  Be  ruthless,  buti  he  shall  have  burial. 

Her.  How  ?   Whom  the  city  hates  thou'lt  thus  exalt  ? 

AjSTT.  Heaven  hath  already  meted  him  his  due. 

Her,  But  first  he  had  endangered  this  fair  land. 

Ant.  He  answered  wrong  with  hostile  violence. 

Her.  'Gainst  all  he  wrestled  for  the  fault  of  one. 

Ant.  Contention  ever  seeks  the  latest  word. 
I  will  bury  him  that 's  here ;  enough  !     No  more  ! 

Her.  Take  thine  own  course  ;  my  voice  forbids  the 
deed. 

Cho.  Proud  powers  of  ruin  that  have  blasted  all 
The  deeply-rooted  stock  of  Laius'  race  ! 
What  counsel,  what  device,  shall  we  embrace. 
What  destined  course  ?     ]Must  we  not  weep  thy  fall. 
Nor  follow  to  thy  final  resting-place  ? 
The  people's  anger  is  of  power  to  appal. 
Thou  ehalt  have  many  mourners,  but  thy  fate 
A  sister's  lonely  voice  shall  celebrate. 

O  hapless  corse  !     O  stern  decree  ! 
What  heart  but  yields  reluctantly  ? 

H.  Cho.  1.  Nay,  let  the  city  visit  those  that  weep 
For  Polynices,  howsoe  er  it  may. 
We  will  escort  him  on  his  funeral  way, 
And  lull  him  to  his  everlasting  sleep. 
All  Thebans  ovra  this  grief,  and  wavering  still 
Are  rules  of  right  set  by  the  popular  will. 

H.  Cho.  2.  Right  and  the  people's  will  one  counsel  urg,% 
And  we  will  follow  his  renowned  bier, 
Who  under  Heaven  saved  Cadmus'  town  from  fear 
Of  overthrow  beneath  the  whelming  surge 
Of  foreign  foemen.     From  those  threatening  seas 
Zeus  rescued  us,  and  brave  Eteocles. 


THE   ORESTEIAN   TRILOGY 

Ojte  only  trilogy  of  Aeschylus  remains  complete  (or 
nearly  so) ;  but  it  is  fortunately  one  composed  by 
him  in  the  maturity  of  his  powers,  and  is  universally 
acknowledged  to  take  rank  amongst  the  world's  master- 
pieces. 

The  subject  is  the  troublous  history  of  '  Pelops' 
line,'  of  which  the  unnatural  horrors  are  regarded  as 
culminating  in  the  matricide  of  Orestes.  Of  the  whole 
trilogy,  considered  as  one  three-act  tragedy,  the  crisis 
and  turning-point  is  at  line  889  of  the  '  Choephoroe,' 
%There  Clytemnestra  calls  for  an  axe,  wherewith  to 
defend  herself  against  her  son. 

The  first  of  the  three  acts,  or  dramas,  concludes  with 
the  murder  of  Agamemnon  by  his  wife  Clytemnestra, 
and  the  usurpation  by  Aegisthus,  her  paramour,  of 
the  Argive  throne.  The  second  ends  with  the  flight 
of  Orestes,  pursued  by  the  Erinyes,  or  Furies,  after  his 
unnatural  act.  They  are  '  his  mother's  furies  '  because 
she  has  invoked  them,  and  they  are  in  so  far  the  per- 
sonification of  her  vengeful  wrath.  But  these  dread 
forms  have  also  a  wider  significance,  embodying  the 
principle  of  retribution  (1)  for  violation  of  domestic 
uianctities,  and  (2)  for  all  unrighteous  action. 

The  third  drama.  The  Eumenides,  aims  at  recon- 
ciling conflicting  principles,  and  at  softening  retribution 
through  equity.  The  Erinyes,  who  appear  at  first  im- 
placable, are  pacified  by  the  interposition  of  Athena. 
And  the  Court  of  Areopagus  is  founded  by  her,  to 
determine  future  cases  of  homicide. 

In  the  Satyric  drama,  '  Proteus,'  which  completed 
the  tetralogy,  some  reference  was  probably  made  to  the 
fortunes  of  Menelaus,  whose  continued  absence  had 
been  commented  on  in  the  '  Agamemnon,'  and  referred 
to  (probably)  in  the  '  Choephoroe  '  (1.  1038— see  note). 


AGAMEMNON 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

A   Watchman. 

Chorus  of  the  Argivs  Elders. 

Clytemnestra. 

Herald. 

Agamemnon. 

Cassandra. 

Aegisthtjs. 

Scene — Argos,  before  the  palace  of  the  Atridae. 
'  Time.— After  the  fall  of  Troy. 


Argos  is  still  the  metropolis  of  Hellas,  and  the  palace 
is  occupied  by  the  two  sons  of  Atreus,  Agamemnon  and 
Menelaus,  as  joint  kings.  They  have  married  sisters, 
Clytemnestra  and  Helene.  daughters  of  Tyndareus.  But 
Helen  has  been  carried  oS  by  Paris,  and  the  two  brothers 
are  described  as  having  together  departed  on  the  Trojan 
expedition.  But  the  fleet  was  delayed  at  Aulis,  and  Aga- 
memnon was  induced  to  sacrifice  his  daughter  Iphigenia,  or 
Iphianassa.  This  act  has  awakened  an  inextinguishable 
hatred  in  the  breast  of  her  mother  Clytemnestra,  who 
remains  in  sole  possession  of  the  vast  palace  of  the  Pelopidae 
— that  home  which  has  already  witnessed  the  banquet  of 
Thyestes  and  other  nameless  iniquities.  She  sends  away 
her  son  Orestes,  and,  amongst  the  horror-breathing  silences, 
remains  alone,  possessed  with  the  one  thought,  the  one 
constant  resolve,  to  take  condign  vengeance  for  her  child. 

But  while  alone  in  the  palace,  she  is  not  alone  in  her 
desire  of  revenge.  Aegisthus,  the  son  of  Thyestes,  is  bound 
in  honour  to  be  avenged  for  his  brothers,  whom  Atreus 
massacred.  He  has  returned  to  Argolis,  but  is  still  an  out- 
cast from  the  palace  of  the  Pelopidae. 

During  the  absence  of  Agamemnon  and  Menelaus  these 
two  hatreds  have  coalesced  in  one, — Clytemnestra,  reckless 
of  all  but  vengeance,  Aegisthus,  likewise  loving  revenge 
but  not  insensible  to  the  charms  of  the  kingdom  and  the 
Queen. 

Their  plot  is  favoured  by  the  circumstance  that,  when 
Agamemnon  returns,  his  brother  Menelaus  is  still  absent, 
having  been  intercepted  by  a  violent  storm.  Although 
suspicion  is  rife,  there  has  been  no  overt  act  either  of 
adultery  or  usurpation.  But  after  one  of  his  secret  visits, 
Aegisthus  has  left  with  Clytemnestra  his  sword.  (Choeph. 
1008.) 

After  entangling  her  husband  in  the  rich  hangings,  or 
carpetings,  over  which  she  has  persuaded  him  to  walk  in 
entering  the  palace,  the  Queen  dispatches  him  with  the 
eword  of  Aegisthus. 

The  King  had  brought  home  with  him  Cassandra,  t)ie 


110 

daughter  of  Priam.  This  insult  serves  to  whet  the  Queen's 
revenge.  And  the  character  of  the  prophetic  maiden,  her 
destined  victim,  stands  in  pathetic  contrast  to  that  of  the 
royal  murderess. 

The  King's  death-shriek  is,  of  course,  the  crisis  of  the 
play,  and  more  than  justifies  the  gloomy  presentiments 
which  damp  all  attempts  at  cheerfulness  on  the  part  of  the 
Watchman,  the  Chorus,  and  the  Herald.  For  this  culmi- 
nating horror  the  mind  of  the  spectator  has  been  further 
prepared,  first  by  certain  lurid  flashes  of  Clytemnestra'a 
demoniac  joy,  and  then  by  a  scene  in  which  the  growing 
apprehension  of  the  event  is  mingled  •with  the  most  poignant 
tenderness  of  pity,  as  Cassandra,  the  captive  princess, 
whom  Apollo  has  inspired  and  forsaken,  prophetically 
describes  both  the  past  abominations  of  the  house  of  Atreus, 
and  the  cruel  doom  that  is  immediately  impending  ovot 
Agamemnon  and  herself. 


AGAMEMNON 


Watchman. 

I  ASK  the  gods  deliverance  from  the  toil 

Of  these  long  watchings.     Through  twelve  weary  moons 

Couched  on  the  Atridae's  house-top,  like  a  dog, 

With  head  on  hand,  and  ever -wakeful  eye, 

I  have  conned  the  nightly  concourse  of  the  stars 

That  shine  majestical  in  yon  clear  heaven. 

And  by  their  risings  and  their  settings  bring 

Summer  and  winter  to  the  world.     To-night 

I  watch  for  the  flame-signal  that  shall  tell 

To  us  in  Argos  tidings  borne  from  Troy, 

Voicing  her  capture.     Such  the  strong  command 

Of  an  expectant,  passionate,  man-souled  woman, 

This  bed  of  mine  beneath  the  dews  of  night 

Conduces  not  to  rest.     Dreams  come  not  near  it. 

Else  they  are  warned  off  by  the  sentinel  Fear, 

That  will  not  let  my  lids  securely  close. 

Then  if  I  whistle,  or  soothe  a  tune,  providing 

Such  antidote  'gainst  slumber,  my  sad  heart 

Checks  me  with  groans  for  the  calamities 

That  haunt  this  house, — not  guided  for  the  best 

As  once  it  was. — Well  !  may  the  nightly  flame 

Soon,  with  glad  news,  release  me  from  my  toil. 

[The  beacon  is  seen. 
All  hail !  thou  hght  in  darkness,  harbinger 
Of  day  indeed,  author  of  many  a  song 
And  dance  in  Argos,  born  of  this  event  1 
Sola,  sola  ! 

I  cry  aloud  to  Agamemnon's  queen 
That  from  her  couch  she  spring  with  speed,  and  raise 
Clamour  of  joy  to  hail  this  beacon-light, 
For  Troy  is  taken  ;  so  the  fires  declare. 


112  AGAMEIINON  [31-67 

Nay,  I'll  begin,  and  dance  by  way  of  prelude. 
Marking  my  master's  game,  I'll  cry  '  Huzza  ! 
Good  luck  !     Three  sixes,  thrown  by  Bonfire-blaze  !  ' — 
Good  luck,  do  I  say  ?     'TwiU  be  some  joy  to  hold 
The  kind  hand  of  this  kingdom's  lord  in  mine. 
Beyond  that,  I  am  silent.     A  strange  weight 
Oppresses  heart  and  tongue.     Could  the  house  speak. 
It  might  have  much  to  tell.     My  hps  will  open, 
With  my  good  will,  only  to  those  that  know. 

Choetjs  {entering). 
Nine  years  are  gone,  and  the  tenth  is  here, 
Since  he  whom  Priam  had  cause  to  fear, 
Menelaus,  wreaking  a  mighty  wTong, 
And  Agamemnon,  in  glory  strong. 
With  twofold  sceptre  and  throne  secure 
Gifted  by  Him  whose  gifts  are  sure — 
Two  sons  of  Atreus  leagued  in  power, 
Of  Argive  j'outh  led  forth  the  flower. 
Well  armed  for  aid,  the  Aegean  o'er. 
In  a  thousand  ships  from  yonder  shore. 

Shouting  they  went,  with  hearts  aflame 

For  the  furious  War-god's  eager  game. 

Like  eagles,  that  over  their  eyrie  wheel, 

Driven  wide  by  the  sudden  pang  they  feel 

For  their  eaglets  torn  from  the  long-watched  nest, 

Oaring  their  path  in  wild  unrest 

With  pens  for  oar-blades. — till  one  on  high. 

Pan  or  Apollo,  hearing  the  cry 

Of  the  birds  who  tenant  his  realm  of  air, 

Is  moved  by  the  sound  of  their  shrill  despair. 

And  sends  on  the  sinner,  albeit  too  late. 

To  redress  that  wrong,  an  avenging  fate. 

So  mightier  Zeus,  who  guards  the  home 

From  outrage  of  guests  that  idly  roam, 

'Gainst  Paris  both  the  Atridae  brought. 

For  a  woman,  whose  marriage  vows  were  naught, 

Broaching  a  flood  of  toils,  to  flow 

For  Greek  and  Trojan  with  equal  woe, — 


67-99]  AGAMEMNON  113 

When  the  knee  outwearied  should  press  the  dust. 

And  the  spear  be  snapped  in  his  virgin  tiirust. — 

Each  hour  hath  proof  of  the  daily  state. 

But  the  end  shall  be  as  'tis  ruled  by  Fate. 

No  late  libation,  or  incense-fume. 

Avails  to  save  from  a  ruthless  doom 

The  man  who  has  angered,  through  mad  desire. 

The  Powers  that  burn,  but  need  no  fire. 

Now  we,  discarded  through  Time's  decay, 

Dropt  from  the  roll  that  mustering  day, 

Remain,  supporting,  as  weakness  craves. 

Our  child-like  gait  upon  walking-staves. 

For  the  sap  that  sprang  in  our  breasts  of  yore 

Ivnows  of  his  youthful  might  no  more. 

And  the  warhke  spirit  hath  left  his  seat. 

What  task  for  withering  Eld  is  meet  ? 

Doting,  he  wanders  his  three-foot  way. 

Proving  such  valour  as  children  may. 

Of  no  more  strength  than  a  di'eam  in  the  day. 

But  thou,  Clytemnestra,  royal  dame. 
What  cause  hath  kindled  thine  altar-Same  ? 
What  new  hath  fallen  ?     What  tichngs  heard 
With  sudden  motion  thy  heart  have  stirred. 
To  raise  by  thy  missives  ranging  v/ide 
Frankincense  fuming  on  every  side  ? 
Of  all  the  gods  that  in  Argos  dwell, 
Gods  of  Olympus,  and  gods  of  Hell, 
Gods  of  the  palace,  gods  of  the  street, 
Gods  who  preside  where  the  people  meet, 
Where'er  is  harboured  a  power  divine. 
Thy  gifts  are  blazing  at  every  shrine. 
Here,  there,  and  yonder,  on  high  doth  spira 
W^ith  holy  meaning  the  fragrant  fire. 
Fed  with  rich  oils,  that  mildly  soothe 
Our  doubtful  hearts  with  warrant  of  truth  : 
Since  the  roj^al  perfume  with  potent  spell 
From  the  palace  whispers  that  all  is  well. — 
Whate'er  thou  mayest,  to  our  minds  reveal, 
O  queen,  of  thy  bounty,  and  timely  heal 


114  AGAME^INON  [99-137 

Our  heart's  foreboding,  that  riseth  still 
One  while  with  thoughts  of  impending  ill, 
Till  Hope,  appearing  with  kindly  light 
From  the  altar,  greets  our  reviving  sight. 
And  strives  to  banish  the  carking  care 
That  fiercely  feeds  on  the  soul's  despair. 

Full  power  is  mine  to  sing  what  heartening  sign       I  1 

Ushered  the  flower  of  warriors  on  their  way  : — 
Yet  soars  my  spirit ;  yet,  from  springs  divine, 

Life  jnelds  me  valour  to  uplift  the  lay, 
Telling  how,  on  a  day, 
The  king  of  birds  marshalled  two  kings  of  men,— 
Joint  leaders  of  the  youth  of  Hellas,  then 
On  ship-board  led  against  the  Teucrian  land 
With  store  of  vengeance  in  each  spear-armed  hand  : — 
A  warlike  sign  !     Two  eagles  on  the  right : 

Full  in  the  army's  sight, 
Hard  by  yon  royal  roof  they  took  their  place 

(One  black  in  all  his  phimes,  one  flecked  with  white). 
Gorging  together  on  a  brooding  hare, 

Overtaken  in  her  latest  chase, 
A  creature  of  despair ! 
Then  be  your  burden  sad  with  sounds  of  wail. 

But  let  the  happier  note  prevail. 

The  careful  prophet  saw  the  Atridae  twain,  I  2 

And  straightway  in  the  hare-devourers  scanned 

Those  warlike  leaders  with  their  differing  strain  ; 

Then  thus  he  spake  prophetic  :   '  Yonder  band 

In  time  shall  take  the  land 
Of  royal  Priam  :  and  the  public  store 
Wherewith  the  towers  of  Troy  were  filled  before. 
Stern  fate  through  violent  shocks  of  armed  power 
Shall  pitilessly  ransack  and  devour. 
Only,  may  no  offence  from  Heaven  distain 

The  bridle  of  Ilion's  plain. 
That  brilliant  army,  crossed  by  heavenly  ire  ! 
Since  hohest  Artemis,  with  wrath  o'erta'en, 
Frowns  as  they  feast  on  yon  poor  trembler's  brood. 


138-172]  AGAMEMNON  115 

Those  winged  minions  of  her  Sire. 
She  abhors  the  eagles'  food.' 
Then  be  your  burden  sad  with  sounds  of  vrail, 
But  let  the  happier  note  prevail. 

°  The  beauteous  goddess,  though  so  kind  II 

To  eanlings  of  the  ravening  lion-race, 
And  tender  sucklings  of  all  beasts  of  chass, 
Doth  yet  accord  her  mind 
To  fair  fulfilment  of  the  favouring  sign. 
Ah  !  but  on  Phoebus  yet  I  call, 

Healer  in  dangers  all. 
Lest  for  the  Argives,  with  intent  malign. 
She  raise  contrarious  winds  of  dire  delay, 
Minded  another  victim  to  exchange 
In  sacrifice  unauthorized  and  strange. 
Attended  with  no  festival, 
Breeding  dark  strife  within  the  hall, 
Hardening  the  wife  against  the  husband's  sway. 
A  mindful  keeper  of  the  house  shall  burn 
To  avenge  her  offspring  at  her  lord's  return.' 
Such  words  of  doom,  mingled  with  fortunate  things, 
Calchas  outspake,  touching  our  race  of  kings. 
Then  be  your  burden  sad  with  sounds  of  wail 
But  let  the  happier  note  prevail. 

Zeus — by  what  name  soe'er  III  1 

He  glories  being  addressed. 
Even  by  that  holiest  name 
I  name  the  Highest  and  Best. 
On  Him  I  cast  my  troublous  care, 
^ly  only  refuge  from  despair  : 
Weighing  all  else,  in  Him  alone  I  find 
Relief  from  this  vain  burden  of  the  mind. 

One  erst  appeared  supreme.  III  2 

Bold  with  abounding  might, 
But  like  a  darkling  dream 
Vanished  in  long  past  night. 
Powerless  to  save  ;    and  he  is  gone 
Who  flourished  since,  in  turn  to  owTl 


116  AGAMEiMNON  [173-206 

His  conqueror,  to  whom  with  soul  on  fire 

Man  crying  aloud  shall  gain  his  heart's  desire, — 

Zeus,  who  prepared  for  men  IV  1 

The  path  of  wisdom,  binding  fast 
Learning  to  suffering.     In  their  sleep 

The  mind  is  visited  again 
With  memory  of  affliction  past. 

Without  the  will,  reflection  deep 
Reads  lessons  that  perforce  shall  last. 
Thanks  to  the  power  that  wields  the  sovran  oar, 
Resistless,  toward  the  eternal  shore. 

And  the  elder  leader  then  IV  2 

Of  all  the  Achaeans,  blaming  not 
The  prophet,  but  with  quivering  lips 

Bending  his  spirit  to  the  strain 
Of  that  unlooked-for,  adverse  lot, — 

What  time  the  Achaeans  by  their  ships 
Were  sore  distressed  with  anxious  thought, 
By  baffling  winds,  that  drained  that  opulent  host, 
Storm-stayed  on  Aulis'  weary  coast. 

For  fronting  Chalkis'  bay,  V  1 

Helpless  as  logs  the  Achaean  galleys  lay ; 

While  blasts  of  dire  delay  from  Strymou's  mouth, 

Authors  of  himger,  weariness  and  drouth, 

Driving  poor  wights  from  hospitable  shores. 

Doubling  the  loss  of  time  through  waste  of  stores. 

Sparing  nor  ships  nor  cordage,  wore  away 

The  flower  of  Argive  youth. — 

And  when  the  prophet  cried. 

Voicing  a  plan  to  cure  the  army's  pain. 

Even  than  that  cruel  wind 

More  cruel  to  the  chieftains  in  their  pride, 

Recalling  Artemis  to  mind. 

Whereat  the  Atridae  with  their  sceptres  twain 

Striking  the  ground,  from  tears  could  not  refrain  ; 

'  'Twere  hard  to  disobey,'  V  2 

These  words  the  elder  chieftain  spake  that  day, 


207-238]  AGAMEMNON  117 

'  But  were  't  not  hard  on  the  altar-step  to  stand 

And  stain  with  virgin  streams  a  father's  hand  ? 

O  heavy  doom  !    if  I  my  child  must  slay, 

Who  sheds  upon  my  home  its  brightest  ray  ! 

Which  way  I  turn  is  fraught  with  evil  still. 

No  course  exempt  from  ill. 

How  should  I  fail  the  fleet  ? 

How  sin  against  the  bond  myself  impressed  ? 

This  blood  will  stay  the  storm  : 

Then  for  the  blood  of  maiden  pure  and  sweet, 

The  ruin  of  a  faultless  form. 

Sorrow  must  yield  to  passionate  unrest 

Of  strong  desire.     May  all  be  for  the  best  I 

So  when  his  neck  received  the  fatal  yoke,  VI 1 

Within  his  braast  arose  the  counter-gale. 
And     impious     thoughts    from    lurking    depths    up- 
broke. 

Unholy  and  fraught  with  bale. 
An  altered  man,  he  recked  no  more  of  crime. 
For  the  first  shock  of  grief  before  unfelt 
Hardens  the  spirit,  that  erewhile  could  melt, 
With  maddening  counsel.     He,  that  dreadful  time. 
Endured  to  slay  his  daughter,  so  to  aid 
The  warfare  in  a  woman's  cause  arrayed, — 

So  to  advance  the  fleet 

With  favouring  auspice  meet ! 

What  cared  that  council,  eager  for  the  strife,      VI  2 
That  on  her  lip  the  name  of  father  hung. 
That  unpolluted  was  her  virgin  life. 

So  pure,  so  bright,  so  young  ! 
The  father  bade  those  priests,  after  the  prayer. 
Above  the  altar,  face  to  earth,  on  high. 
Like  kidling  there  to  lift  her  ruthlessly, 
With  garments  drooping  round  her,  and  the  fair 
Sweet  mouth  to  bridle  with  speech-stifling  force. 
Lest  some  faint  cry,  heard  in  that  ritual's  course. 

Might  bring  disastrous  doom 

Upon  her  father's  home. 


118  AGAMEMNON  [239-270 

She  shed  to  earth  her  veil  of  saffron  dye,  VII  I 

And  smote  her  sacrificers  one  by  one 

With  pity-kindling  arrows  from  her  eye, 

Willing  to  speak,  as  if  some  artist  hand 

That  dumb  fair  piece  had  done. 

How  often  in  her  own  dear  land 

She  charmed  the  feasters  in  her  father's  hall. 

With  fresh  young  voice  honouring  his  festival, 

And  with  her  loving  presence  graced  the  store 

Of  scathless  plenty  on  that  palace-floor  ! 

What  followed  then  I  saw  not,  nor  will  tell ;     VII  2 
The  mystic  arts  of  Calchas  won  their  way. 
Nor  on  things  future  boots  it  now  to  dwell ; 
Farewell  to  that  !    Clear,  in  the  history's  close, 
'Twill  dawn  with  the  new  day. 
Knowledge  belongs  of  right  to  those 
Who  read  the  lesson  of  the  fact  they  feel. 
Fore-thinking  were  fore-sorrowing.     May  tlie  wheel 
Bring  round  good  fortune  !    such  the  wishful  mind 
Of  us,  last  guards  of  Argos  left  behind. 

Enter  Clytemnestea, 

Leader  op  Cno.  Queen  Clytemnestra,  we  are  come 
to  render 
Our  duties  to  thy  royalty.     For  when 
The  kingly  throne  is  vacant,  it  is  meet 
The  consort  of  the  prince  should  have  all  homage. 
We  are  here  with  loyal  hearts  intent  to  learn 
If  some  good  tidings  coming  to  thine  ear 
Have  prompted  thine  auspicious  sacrifice. 
Speak,  if  thou  wilt.     If  not,  we  rest  content. 

Cly.   '  With  glad  intelligence,'  the  proverb  saith, 
'  Let  Morning  issue  from  the  womb  of  Night.' 
A  joy  beyond  your  hope  'tis  yours  to  hear. 
Our  Argive  host  hath  taken  Priam's  town. 

Cho.  How  ?    'Tis  incredible.     Speak  yet  again. 

Cly.  Troy  is  in  Grecian  hands.     Are  those  words 
plain  ? 

Cno.  Unlooked  for  joy  brings  tears  into  mine  eye. 


271-309]  AGAMEMNON  119 

Cly.  Those  tears  attest  your  loyalty  of  heart. 

Cho.  But  hast  thou  proof  that  may  be  trusted,  lady  ? 

Cly.  Unless  some  god  have  been  deceiving  me. 

Cho.  Hast  thou  then  hearkened  to  some  flattering 
dream  ? 

Cly.  No  slumbrous  fancies  work  on  my  belief. 

Cho.  But  some  speech-omen,  lighting  on  thy  soul — 

Cly.  Should  that  elate  me  like  a  girl  ?  Ye  mock  me  t 

Cho.  Say,  then,  how  long  ago  the  city  fell. 

Cly.  In  the  same  night  that  now  brings  forth  the  day. 

Cho.  WTiat  messenger  could  bear  the  news  so  swiftly? 

Cly.  The  Fire-god  flashed  it  hither  from  Mount  Ida. 
Fire  was  the  post,  and  beacons  were  the  stages. 
First  Ida  sent  him  to  the  Hermaean  bluff 
Of  Lemnos,  whence  the  flaring  torch  that  rose 
Vv'as  caught  by  Athos,  Zeus's  promontory  ; 
Thence  high  aloft,  far-glancing  o'er  the  sea. 
The  blazing  pine  sped  on  the  traveller-flame, 
Making  strange  sunrise  on  Makistus'  height. 
Who,  ready  for  that  dawn,  neglected  not 
A  courier's  office,  but  gave  signal  far 
Across  Euripus  to  the  watchmen  set 
On  wild  Messapius.     They  replied  and  sent 
The  glad  news  onward,  kindling  a  dry  heap 
Of  aged  heather.     And  the  mighty  flame. 
Nought  bating  of  his  radiant  power,  o'erleapt 
Asopus'  fiats,  and,  like  a  brilliant  moon 
Silvering  the  forehead  of  Cithaeron,  waked 
A  fresh  relay  of  courier  torches  there  : 
Nor  was  the  far-sped  beacon-flame  denied ; 
But  re-inforcing  it  beyond  command. 
That  mountain  guard  upreared  a  royal  blaze, 
To  shoot  beyond  Gorgopis'  bay  and  strike 
The  moimt  of  Aegiplanctus,  where  it  roused 
Loyal  renewal  of  the  appointed  fire. 
Heaping  on  fuel  with  unsparing  hand. 
They  raised  a  beard-like  pyramid  of  flame. 
Whose  light  rushed  past  the  foreland  that  looks  forth 
Tov.'ards  Aegina,  till  it  reached  the  height 
That  crowns  our  city,  this  Arachnian  hill : — 


120  AGAMEJVINON  [310-345 

WTience,  laslly,  on  the  Atridae's  roof  lights  dowa 
That  hneal  otispring  of  the  Idaean  tlame. 
Such  torch-race  had  we  ordered  and  prepared. 
In  bright  successive  courses  ministered. 
But  here  one  runner,  first  and  last  i'  the  race. 
Hath  touched  the  goal  and  shouted  '  Victory  ! ' 
This  is  the  proof  and  token  I  proclaim, 
Sent  by  my  husband  from  the  heart  of  Troy. 

Cho.   O  lady,  our  thanksgivinss  shall  be  paid 
To  Heaven,  hereafter.     We  would  hear  thee  still. 
Listening    and    wondering, — so    thou    wouldst   speak 
anew. 

Cly.  To-day  the  Achaeans  are  possessed  of  Troy. 
A  jarring  din,  methinks,  is  rising  there  ! 
Into  one  vessel  pouring  oil  and  vinegar 
You  will  not  see  them  lovingly  combine. 
Even  so  the  captives'  and  the  captors'  cries 
Tell  diverse  tales  of  Fortune's  twofold  power. 
Those  now  are  fallen  about  the  prostrate  forms 
Of  husbands,  brothers,  friends, — young  children,  too. 
Clinging  to  grey-haired  fathers, — and  from  throats 
Xo  longer  free,  lament  their  dearest  slain. 
But  those,  being  wearied  with  the  night's  exploit, 
O'er-watched  and  hungry,  break  their  fast  i'  the  towrj 
On  what  is  yet  to  be  found  there, — not  by  rule — 
No  order,  no  precedence,  no  degree, — 
But  even  as  each  hath  plucked  the  lot  of  chance. 
So  now  inhabiting  the  ransacked  homes 
Of  captive  Trojans,  sheltered  from  the  dews 
And  frosts  of  the  open  field,  as  men  released 
From  toil,  they   will  sleep  all  night,    nor  dream   of 

danger. 
And  if  they  reverence  well  the  gods  that  hold 
The  captured  city,  and  the  temples  there. 
The  spoiler  may  escape  being  spoiled.     Bui  let 
No  lust  seduce  that  host  to  plunder  things 
Inviolable,  as  overcome  by  greed. 
The  race  is  not  yet  over.     Still  remains 
Tlio  home-return,  to  round  tlieir  emulous  course. 
V'ea,  even  without  otiended  Deity 


346-380]  AGAMEMNON  121 

Or  tricks  of  chance,  the  spirits  of  the  slain 
May  wake  in  wrath  and  bar  the  homeward  way. 
Thus, — if  ye  list  to  hear  a  woman's  word, — 
Would  run  my  counsel.     But  may  good  prevail 
Without  a  flaw  !    The  blessings  of  my  home 
Are  manifold,  and  I  would  keep  them  still. 

[Exit  Clytemnestra. 
LsADEH  ofCho.  All  praise  to  thee,Zeus,king  supreme! 

and,  O  night,  kind  protectress,  to  thee  ! 
How  rich  were  thj'  splendours,  when  over  the  bulwarks 

of  Troy 
Thou  didst  drop  the  wide  net  of  destruction,  that  none, 

great  or  small,  man  or  boy. 
Fled  beyond,  but  was  taken  or  perished,  none  crept 

through  the  meshes  of  doom. 
All  praise  to  the  power  everlasting  that  punishes  perfidy 

home  ! 
Long  since  on  tlie  string  was  the  arrow,  that  neither  too 

feebly  should  fly, 
Nor  idly  o'er  head  of  the  sinner  should  mount,  as  if 

aimed  at  the  sky. 
But  should  pierce  through  the  bosom  of  Paris. — The 

hour  and  the  death-stroke  are  come  J 


Chorus. 

From  Zeus  came  down  the  stroke  that  lowered  their 
pride.  I  1 

So  much  may  be  discerned  beyond  dispute. 
They  fared  as  he  determined.     One  denied 
Gods  could  be  thought  to  care,  when  man  or  bruto 
Had  trampled  o'er  the  grace  of  holiest  things. 
He  knew  not  reverence.     But  the  truth  is  shown 
In  judgement  falling  on  proud  warrior-kings 
Who,  when  their  hails  were  bursting  with  excess 
Beyond  the  limit  of  true  happiness. 
Defied  all  laws  to  gods  or  mortals  known. 
V/here  is  the  limit  ?    Let  but  sorrow  cease 
And  all  within  be  peace. 
The  wise  in  heart  shall  be  well  satisfied. 


122  AGAMEilNON  [381-419 

For  wealtia  ne'er  proved  a  fortress  for  the  man 
\Vlio,  mad  with  having,  insolently  ran 
At  Right's  high  altar,  in  his  impious  thought 
Jlinded  to  hurl  it  into  nought. 

But  strong  Delusion,  Sin's  disastrous  child,  I  2 

Brooding  o'er  future  trespass,  works  her  will 

Remediless.     Xot  to  be  reconciled 

Nor  yet  concealed,  the  bane  is  shining  still. 

As  in  the  assaying  peers  the  base  alloy, 

With  lurid  brilliance  ruinously  clear. 

Even  so  he  fares,  who,  like  a  wanton  boy. 

Chases  the  bird  that  mocks  his  eager  hand. 

And  on  his  people  brings  a  cureless  brand. 

Loudly  he  prays,  but  none  in  heaven  will  hear. 

God  strikes  to  earth  the  man  of  unjust  ways, 

Outcast  from  hope  of  praise. 

So  Paris,  harboured  in  these  halls,  defiled 

With  base  ingratitude  the  Atridae's  home. 

He  wronged  the  chieftain  of  yon  stately  dome, 

Stealing  with  robber  guile  the  beauteous  wife. 

Unfaithful  cause  of  future  strife. 

She  left  unto  her  friends  in  Argos  here  II  1 

Clashing  of  shields,  arming  of  ships  and  men, 

And,  taking  to  the  city  of  her  new  lord 

Destruction  for  a  dowry,  lightly  then 

She  passed  the  portal,  sinning  witliout  fear. 

Whilst  ominous  voices  there  that  tiight  deplored : 

'  Woe  for  the  palace  ho:iie  !    Woe  for  her  spouse  1 

Woe  for  her  wifely  ways  within  the  house  ! 

He  stands  dishonoured,  silent,  murmuring  not. 

Soul -stricken  before  that  unremoved  blot. 

While  longing  for  the  lost  one  over  seas 

Shall  banish  all  heart's-ease. 

That  some  unbodied  ghost  shall  seem 

To  rule  the  house,  as  in  a  dream. 

The  loveliest  forms  of  stone 

To  that  deserted  one 

Are  hateful,     In  the  spirit's  listless  void 

All  sense  of  beauty  sinks  destroyed. 


420-455]  AGAMEMNON  123 

'  Yet  visions  of  the  night,  born  of  regret,  II  2 

Bring  to  his  saddened  soul  a  vain  delight. 
Is  it  not  vain  if,  when  one  thinks  to  reap 
Strange  joy,  the  cherished  object  fleets  from  sight 
(Even    -while    with    gladdening    tears    the    eyes    are 

wet) 
On  wings  that  follow  with  the  steps  of  sleep  ? ' 
Such  homefeit  wounds  within  the  palace  wall 
Are  bleeding.     Ay,  and  would  that  these  were  all  ! — 
Nay,  every^vhere  through  Grecian  lands  is  seen, 
In  each  man's  home,  much  heart-corroding  teen. 
From  Grecian  lands  together  forth  they  went, 
Each  by  their  loved  ones  sent. 
And  now  the  soul  of  friends  is  sore 
To  think  whom  they  shall  see  no  more. 
Whom  they  sent  forth  they  know. 
But  to  their  bitter  woe. 

No  well-loved  form,  but  urns  of  crumbling  earth 
Return  to  each  man's  natal  hearth. 

Ares,  grim  usurer  of  blood  and  breath,  III  I 

That  swings  his  balance  o'er  the  held  of  death. 

Sends  back  from  Ilium  to  their  friends 

(For  warriors'  loss  no  just  amends) 

Their  ashes  blackened  by  the  funeral  fire, —    ' 

Poor  dust !    so  heavy  not  with  gold  but  grief, 

Aifording  to  the  dumb  desire 

Of  tears  but  scant  relief. 

Then  as  with  tender  heed  they  store  away 

Each  precious  burden  in  its  vase  of  clay. 

They  groan,  while  praising  one  for  skill  in  fight 

And  one  for  his  brave  conduct  in  the  strife, 

'  Fallen  to  avenge  another  warrior's  wife.' 

This  last  is  murmured  low. 

While  silent  wrath  doth  grow 

'Gainst  Atreus'  sons,  great  champions  of  their  right. 

Others,  with  limbs  unravaged,  in  the  shade 

By  Ilion's  bulwarks  made, 

Rest  undisturbed  : — the  hostile  land  they  held 

Hides  them  beneath  her  kindly  mould. 


124  AGAMEMNON  [456-487 

Ah  f    dangerous  are  the  murmurs  of  the  town  !  Ill  2 

A  nation's  curse  lives  in  the  people's  frown. 

One  thoug'nt  of  mine  night  yet  doth  shroud : 

It  would  be  spoken,  but  not  loud : 

Great  bloodshed  draws  the  gaze  of  Deity. 

The  dark  Erinys  in  long  lapse  of  time 

Grinds  down  to  helpless  poverty 

Him  who  in  ways  of  crime 

Hath  flourished,  but  in  dim  reverse  of  doom 

Shall  stain  the  lustre  of  that  odious  bloom ; 

And,  once  among  the  lost,  he  hath  no  more  force. 

Danger  is  theirs,  too,  that  are  praised  by  all : 

From  jealous  eyes  the  fire  of  Heaven  doth  fall. 

Mine  be  the  moderate  lot 

That  envy  blastetii  not ! 

I  would  not  run  the  royal  conqueror's  course, 

Nor  yet  would  I  be  conquered,  and  behold 

The  life  I  shared  of  old 

Subdued  to  strangers,  and  my  country's  folk 

Writhing  beneath  an  alien  yoke. 

Good  news  delivered  by  the  beacon  flash  IV  1 

Shot  through  the  city  a  rumour  swift  and  rash, 

Yet  who  can  tell  if  thinc:s  be  as  they  seem. 

Or  God  have  sent  us  a  deceitful  gleam  ? 

'Twere  childish  or  insensate  to  allow 

One's  heart  to  kindle  at  tliat  cheering  glow, 

And  quench  it  when  a  word 

Of  differing  note  is  heard. 

None  but  a  woman,  framed  of  hopes  and  fears,  lY  2 
Should  yield  assent  before  the  fact  appears. 
Persuasion  soon  invades  the  female's  realm  : 
Her  j-j  Jgment's  pale  is  quickly  overthrown ; 
Feebly  she  holds  an  unresisting  helm : 
But  fading  soon  to  nothing  the  renown 

Told  by  a  woman's  tongue 

Will  not  endure  for  long. 


488-5253  AGAMEItlNON  125 

Enter  the  Herald. 

Leader  of  Cho.  Ha  ! 
Now  we  shall  know  for  certain  how  to  deem 
Of  those  bright  signals  of  transmitted  fire, 
\Vhether  truth  is  in  them,  or  this  light  of  joy. 
Dreamlike,  cajoled  our  minds  with  empty  hope. 
I  see  a  herald  coming  from  the  shore 
With  olive-boughs  overshadowed,  and  the  dust 
(Clay's  thirsty  neighbouring  sister)  tells  me  plain 
This  is  no  voiceless  phantom-messenger 
Of  smoke  and  blaze  from  mountain  bonfire  sprung, 
But  will  speak  audibly, — whether  of  joy. 
Or — but  I  waive  the  less  auspicious  word. 
Alay  that  fair  token  now  be  crowned  with  good  ! — 
Whoso  prays  otherwise  for  this  our  state, 
Heaven  visit  his  soul's  trespass  on  himself. 

Her.   O  Fatherland  of  Argos,  dearly  loved, 
In  this  tenth  year  I  tread  thy  hallowed  ground : 
Though  many  a  hope  hath  snapped,  this  anchor  holds 
Beyond  expectance.     I  had  long  despaired 
E'en  of  kind  burial  in  my  native  earth. 
Hail,  Argive  country,  Argive  light,  and  thou, 
Zeus  over  all  ! — thou  too,  great  Pythian  king, 
Let  thy  keen  darts  no  longer  fly  our  way. 
Enough  they  vexed  us  before  Troy.     But  now, 
Apollo,  heal  and  save  us  !  Yea,  all  ye 
Gods  of  our  thoroughfares, — thou  above  all, 
Hermes,  dear  herald,  whom  we  heralds  worship, — 
And  ye,  great  warriors  of  old  time,  whose  spirits 
Followed  us  forth, — receive  again  from  war 
With  kindly  thoughts  this  remnant  of  the  host. 
O  well-loved  palace  of  our  kings,  and  ye. 
Dread  thrones  of  judgment,  and  great  Powers  that  face 
The  morning,  with  your  brightest  glances  greet 
Our  Sovereign  in  his  triumph  of  to-day. 
He  comes,  long  waited  for,  bringing  to  you 
And  all  this  people  glory  out  of  gloom. 
Light  for  long  darkness.     Then  salute  him  well 
Who  well  deserves  it,  having  ransacked  Troy, 


126  AGAMEimON  [526-556 

And  dug  the  ground  there  with  the  spade  of  Doom, 

That,  by  the  righteous  will  of  Zeus  most  high. 

Temples  and  altars  are  no  more,  no  more 

A  germ  of  life  in  all  the  desolate  land. 

Such  yoke  is  cast  upon  proud  Ilion's  neck 

By  the  elder  son  of  Atreus,  who  this  day 

Returns,  a  happy  warrior,  of  all  men 

Most  to  be  honoured,  having  wreaked  in  full 

The  rape  of  Helen  on  all  the  Trojan  name. 

Not  Paris,  or  all  his  people  leagued  in  one, 

May  boast  their  suffering  lighter  than  their  deed. 

Proclaimed  a  thief  and  robber,  he  hath  lost 

More  than  his  booty,  having  razed  to  the  earth 

His  father's  house  and  ravaged  his  own  land. 

Priam's  sons  have  paid  the  penalty  twice  o'er. 

Cho.   Hail  !    herald  of  the  host ;    I  bid  thee  joy. 

Her.  Yea;  from  this  moment  I  could  welcome  death. 

Cho.  Didst  thou  so  yearn  for  this  thy  fatherland  ? 

Heb.  So  that  warm  tears  stand  in  mine  eyes  for 
gladness. 

Cho.  Then  in  that  trouble  ye  were  not  unblest. 

Her.  Let  me  be  master  of  that  speech.     I]xplain. 

Cho.  Being  touched  with  love  of  those  who  longed 
for  you. 

Her.  Mean  you  the  land  yearned  likewise  for  her 
sons  ? 

Cho.  Ay  !  these  dim  souls  have  often  sighed  for  you. 

Her.  Whence  came  this  cloud  upon  your  spirits  ? 
Tell! 

Cho.  Silence  hath  long  been  our  best  remedy. 

Her.  How?   Feared  ye  any  man,  j'our  lord  away? 

Cho.  In  thine  own  words — we  could  have  welcomed 
death. 

Her.  I  spake  that  in  my  joy.     Yet  looking  back- 
ward, 
Doubtless,  our  hap  was  chequered  with  some  woe. 
Who,  save  the  gods,  eternally  command 
Pleasure  unmingled  ?    Were  I  now  to  tell 
Our  toils  and  hardships  'neath  the  open  sky, 
Lying  on  narrow  bunks,  ill-lined  and  bare, 


557-594]  AGAMEMNON  127 

Lamenting  each  day's  lack  of  every  store  ; 
Then  on  iirm  land,  still  worse,  to  lodge  i'  the  field, 
Close  under  the  enemy's  wall,  with  rain  from  heaven 
Or  dews  from  the  damp  meadow,  drizzling  over 
Our  clothes,  our  bodies,  and  our  clotted  hair : — 
Or  should  one  tell  o'  the  storm-wind,  striking  down 
The  falcon  from  her  pride,  with  icy  power 
Swooping  from  Ida's  snows  ;    or  of  the  heat, 
When  idle  Ocean  in  his  bed  at  noon 

Lay  motionless,  and  not  an  air  might  breathe 

But  no  !    Why  grieve  o'er  troubles  that  are  past  ?— 

So  past  for  some,  as  never  any  more 

They  will  care  to  rise  from  where  they  lie.     But  we, 

The  living,  why  should  we  to-day  count  over 

The  lost,  or  mourn  malignant  Fortune's  power  T 

Farewell,  say  I,  to  sorrow  !    We  survive  ; 

Our  gain  o'erweighs  past  trouble,  and  to-day 

On  land,  or  coursing  over  seas,  we  call 

This  morning's  sun  to  look  upon  the  host 

Returning  with  triumphant  spoils  from  Troy, 

By  us  at  length  subdued, — to  hang  them  up 

In  all  the  temples  of  Hellenic  gods 

A  bright  and  everlasting  monument. 

Hear  this,  ye  people,  and  extol  your  State 

And  our  great  leaders,  duly  rendering  praise 

To  Zeus,  first  author  of  these  gifts.     I  have  said. 

Ejlter   CLYTElVrNESTRA. 

Cho.  Your  happy  tidings  have  prevailed  to  cheer  me, 
The  old  are  ever  young  enough  to  learn 
When  good  approaches.     And  thy  words  bring  good. 
To  our  queen  and  palace  first,  and  then  to  me. 

Cly.  Long  since  1  raised  the   shout  of  joy,  when 
came 
The  first  night-messenger  of  fire  to  tell 
That  Troy  was  taken,  llion  overthrown. 
Men  chid  me,  saying,  '  Dost  thou  now  believe, 
Persuaded  by  a  bonfire,  Troy  is  fallen  ? 
How  like  a  woman  to  be  thus  elate  !  ' 
Yet  brought  I  mine  oblation,  and  glad  cries 


12S  AGAMEMNON  [595-631 

In  female  notes  were  sounded  here  and  there 

About  the  city, — as  -with  incense  poured 

They  soothed,  at  every  shrine,  the  odorous  flame. 

Now,  why  ask  more  of  thee  ?    I  shall  hear  all 

From  mine  own  husband  when  he  comes.     I  will  haste 

Nobly  to  meet  my  lord's  return.     What  light 

Is  sweeter  to  a  woman's  eyes  than  that 

\Miich  floods  the  opening  gate  when   Heaven  brings 

home 
Her  husband  from  the  war  ?    Bear  back  this  word. 
Let  him  come  quickly,  loved  of  all  the  land. 
And  may  he  find  the  wife  he  left  behind 
Unchanged,  still  faithful ;    watching  o'er  his  home. 
Like  a  good  house-dog,  fierce  to  his  enemies, 
But  kind  to  him  ;    and  holding  unprofaned 
So  long,  the  pressure  of  his  last  embrace. 
Of  joys  with  other  men,  or  guilty  word, 
I  know  no  more  than  of  the  blacksmith's  art. 
Such  boast,  instinct  with  honest  truthfukiess, 
A  noble  wife  may  utter,  without  blame.  [Exit. 

Cno.  Herald,  thine  ear,  a  sound  interpreter. 
Hath  taught  thee  the  fair  meanings  of  the  queen. 
But  tell  us  now,  we  pray  thee,  of  the  prince 
This  land  delights  to  honour,  Menelaiis, — 
Comes  he  with  you  in  safety  to  his  home  ? 

Her.  Were  I  to  utter  false  glad  tidings  here, 
Short-hved  were  that  delight  for  those  1  love. 

Clio.   Ah  then  !   let  what  is  good  be  likewise  true  ! 
Goodness  and  truth  dissevered  are  soon  known. 

Her.  I  tell  the  simple  truth.     The  man  is  lost, 
Gone  from  the  fleet.     His  ship  is  no  more  seen, 

Cho.  Say,  launched  he  forth  from  Troy  in  sight  of 
men. 
Or  did  a  storm,  that  troubled  all  your  host. 
Snatch  him  away  ? 

Her.  You  hit  the  centre  thers. 

Condensing  in  brief  words  a  world  of  woe. 

Cho.  How  ?    What  report  from  other  mariners 
Was  noised  about  him  as  alive  or  dead  ? 


632-670]  AGAMEJkENON  129 

Her.  One  only  can  with  surety  answer  you, 
The  Sun,  who  nourishes  Earth's  various  brood. 

Cho.  How  mean  you  that  the  storm  assailed  the  fleet 
And  proved  the  executor  of  wrath  from  Heaven  ? 

Her.  a  day  of  blessing  ought  not  to  be  stained 
With  news  of  bale.     Heaven's  honour  should  be  clear. 
An  evil  messenger  with  darkened  brow 
That  brought  you  tidings  of  an  army's  fall, 
A  twofold  horror,  doubly  charged  with  woe. 
First  for  the  country's  wound,  then  for  the  homes 
Whose  men  had  been  devoted  to  the  scourge 
Loved  of  the  War-god,  armed  with  death  and  dole — 
The  tongue  so  laden  with  calamities 
Might  chant  this  hymn  of  heavenly  wrath. 

But  I, 
Who  come  with  news  of  peace  and  bright  success 
To  a  city  smiling  with  prosperity. 
Why  must  I  dash  my  good  with  ill,  by  telhng 
Of  the  dire  storm  Heaven  sent  to  plague  our  fleet  ? 
Fire  and  the  sea,  those  ancient  foes,  were  leagued 
In  firm  alliance  visibly  fulfilled 
To  wreck  our  ill-starred  navy.     'Twas  i'  the  night 
Came  the  onset  of  the  billowy  adversary. 
Big  with  disaster,  for  the  Thracian  blast 
Smote  ship  'gainst  ship,  that  gored  and  butted  each 
Her  neighbour,  buffeted  with  swilling  brine 
And  raging  tempest,  till  they  passed  from  sight 
Like  kine  a  madman  drives.     On  that  wild  scene 
The  sun  arising  cloudless,  showed  us  all 
The  Aegean  strewn  with  wreaths  of  floating  wreck. 
And  bodies  of  Achaean  men.     Our  vessel. 
Some  power  divine,  or  pleading  with  the  storm 
Or  thwarting  him,  made  scathless.    'Twas  no  mariner, 
But  saving  Providence,  stood  by  our  helm. 
And  steered  us,  neither  to  a  boisterous  road-stead. 
Nor  on  the  breakers  of  a  rock-lanced  shore. 
Then,  rescued  from  that  watery  death,  amidst 
Fair  daylight,  not  believing  our  escape. 
Our  thoughts  were  mindful  of  a  new  distress. 
Mourning  the  wreck  and  havoc  of  our  fleet. 

F 


130  AGAMEMNON  [671-709 

May  Heaven  still  work  us  good  !    So  much  is  clear. 

If  any  of  those  we  parted  from  still  breathe, 

They  reason  of  our  death  as  we  of  theirs. 

And  as  for  Menelaus,  let  us  hope 

He  above  all  may  be  preserved,  and  come 

Back  to  his  home.     Zeus  wills  not  yet,  we  trust, 

His  race  should  perish, — and  will  fiiid  some  means 

To  keep  him  still  in  life.     Somewhere  the  sun 

Beholds  him,  and  his  eyes  enjoy  the  day. 

Now,  Argives,  I  have  told  you  all  the  truth. 

Chorus. 

Who  gave  the  ill-omened  name,  I  1 

So  fraught  with  terror  for  the  time  to  be. 

So  true  to  her  career  of  blame  ? 
War-won,  war-wed,  war-wakening  Helen^  ? 
Was  he  some  prophet-spirit  unknown  to  fame. 

With  sure  presentiment 

Fore-speaking  Time's  event  ? 
The  name  of  Helen  tells  of  ships  aflame, 

Of  souls  to  Hades  sent, 
Of  countries  ravaged,  cities  overthrown. 

From  out  the  delicately  curtained  bower, 

Borne  by  the  West-wind's  earthborn  power. 
In  Paris'  nimble  galley  forth  she  wont. 

And  when  they  touched  on  Siraois'  shore. 
With  cytisus  and  myrtle  overgrown, 

A  many-shielded  pack 

Following  the  viewless  track 

Of  their  swift  oar. 
Came  bent  on  slaughterous  feud  and  fierce  arbitrament. 

That  bond,  so  rightly  styled,  I  2 

Bound  Ilium  with  a  chain  of  endless  care. 

Sent  by  some  spirit  of  anger  wild 
Resolved  on  ruin,  minded  to  prepare 
Revenge  for  hospitaUty  defiled 

On  those  who  sang  that  day 

The  lawless  marriage-lay, 
Provoking  wrath  hard  to  be  reconciled. 


710-736]  AGAMEJINON  131 

Her  new-found  brethren  gay 
Thought  not  if  Zeus  approved  the  enforced  song.  _ 

Now  they  and  theirs  have  learned  a  different  strain, 

And  Priam's  ancient  town  with  pain 
Groans  heavily  from  forth  her  ashes  grey. 

Calling  on  Paris  the  accurst, 
The  guilty  cause  of  unforgiven  wrong ; — 

She  that  in  wild  despair 

For  generations  fair 

Herself  had  nursed, 
Had  spent  long  years  of  wailing  'midst  the  fray. 

What  image  fits  Troy's  fall  ?  II 1 

A  man,  I  will  say. 

Cherished  within  his  hall 

A  cub,  for  play, 
Just  weaned,  but  hardly,  from  the  lioness. 

The  prelude  of  his  life 

Was  far  from  cruel  strife  ; 
The  darling  of  young  boys,  a  thing  of  sportiveness  1 

Even  old  men  felt  the  charm  ; 

Oft  in  the  nestling  arm 
'Twas  dandled,  like  to  human  babyhood ; 

When  stroked,  he  made  reply 

With  fondly  brightening  eye  ; 
When  hunger  pressed,  he  crouched  and  fawned  for  food. 

But  as  with  time  he  grew  II  2 

He  showed  his  stock, 

And  with  dire  outrage  slew 
The  home-bred  flock. 
So  making  ill  retiirn  for  all  that  care ; 

Till  all  the  peaceful  floor 

With  blood  was  dabbled  o'er : 
The  household  slaves  beheld  in  mute  despair. 

The  self-provided  feast 

Of  that  unbidden  guest 
Spread  havoc  round  him  wheresoe'er  he  moved. 

Sent  by  some  god  to  earth 

To  plague  a  sinful  hearth, 
A  priest  of  Ate's  self  that  nursling  proved. 


132  AGAMEMNON  {.717-77^ 

Even  so  metbinks  there  came  to  Troia's  town,    III  1 

One  tempered  like  the  calm  on  windless  seas, 
A  face  to  smite  the  soul  but  ne'er  to  frown, 

A  joy  luxurious,  crowning  wealth  with  ease. 
Love  there  in  bloom  entranced  the  passionate  mind. 

But  soon  she  turned  and  made  a  bitter  end 
Of  nuptial,  in  old  Ilion's  hour  of  need ; 

By  Zeus  who  punisheth  where  guests  offend 
Brought  thither  as  a  bane  to  Priam's  seed : 
Kinship  unblest  !    companionship  unkind. 
Sad  bride  of  tears,  fell  fury  unconfined  ! 

Wise  lips  declared,  and  'tis  an  aged  saw.  III  2 

That  man's  prosperity,  maturely  grown, 
Hath  offspring  that  succeeds  by  Heaven's  high  law, — 

From  happy  fortune  misery  full-blown : 
A  different  thought  by  me  shall  be  confessed ; 

The  issue  of  impious  deeds  is  evil  still. 
With  plenteous  increase,  like  to  like  succeeding  ; 

Not  so  begets  its  race  the  righteous  will. 
But  the  fair  life  fair  fortune  aye  is  breeding. 
No  evil  brood  disturbs  that  peaceful  nest. 
The  house  of  the  upright  evermore  is  blest. 

The  pride  of  former  years  engendereth  pride       IV  1 

Youngly  insulting  o'er  calamity  ; 
Or  soon  or  late,  what  matters  ?    WTien  the  tide 

Of  time  brings  on  the  day  of  destiny 
For  that  fell  birth,  even  then  is  born  the  Power, 
Unblest,  resistless,  making  warriors  cower. 
Infatuate  Boldness,  whose  o'ershadowing  gloom 
Veils  all  the  house  with  darkness  of  the  tomb; 
Such  parentage  hath  bloomed  in  such  fell  liowcr. 

The  light  of  Righteousness  in  smoky  homes         IV  2 
Shines  unimpaired,  honouring  the  humble  lot ; 

From  gilded  halls  impure,  as  Earth  she  roams. 
She  turns  her  gaze  to  bless  the  pious  cot ; 

The  power  of  riches  falsely  stampt  with  praise 

Wins  not  her  worship  by  its  spurious  blaze ; 


777-806]  AGAMEIINON  133 

Her  judgement  ever  points  to  the  far  goal 
Wliereto  she  leads  all  lives  with  sure  control, 
Shaping  the  hour  to  suit  with  distant  days. 

Enter  Agamemnon,  in  a  chariot,  with  Cassandra 
beside  him. 

Leader  of  Cho.  King  of  Argos  and  scion  of  Atreus, 

destroyer  of  Ilios'  town. 
With  what  words  shall  I  greet  thee  aright,  how  award 

thee  thy  meed  of  renown. 
Neither  shortening  thy  merits  unduly,  nor   aimlessly 

rushing  beyond  ? 
Our  race  oft  transgresseth  in  judgement.     Too  many 

weak  mortals  are  fond 
Of    the  seeming  of  right,  not  regarding  how  Justice 

offended  may  frown. 

Men  are  ready  with  sighs  for  the  fall  of  a  friend,  while 
the  heart  is  unwrung  ; 

And  with  smiles  for  success,  where  the  face  is  com- 
pelled to  accord  with  the  tongue. 

But  the  shepherd  who  tells  o'er  his  tiock  with  due  heed 
cannot  fail  to  discern 

The  eyes  that  in  waterish  kindness  pretend  with  affection 
to  burn. 

Then  know,  for  I  will  not  dissemble,  when  once  thou 
didst  marshal  the  host 

Thou  hadst  levied  to  fight  for  fair  Helen,  providing  at 
infinite  cost 

Forced  courage  in  soldierly  bosoms  of  thousands  pre- 
pared to  be  slain. 

Unlovely  to  me  looked  thine  image,  unskilful  thy  hand 
to  maintain 

Thy  spirit's  true  course,  as  thy  bark  on  that  weltering 
ocean  was  tossed. 

But  now  from  my  soul's  depth  arises  a  voice  of  warm 

welcome  for  those 
Whose  labour,  of  doubtful  beginning,  is  fortunate  here 

at  the  close. 


134  AGAMEMNON  [807-843 

And  in  time  thou  shalt  clearly  discover,  of  ail  thou  didst 

leave  in  command, 
Who  have  failed  or  been  faithful  in  keeping  their  charge 

and  protecting  the  land. 

AoAM.  Argos,  dear  country,  and  my  country's  gods  ! 
Ye  claim  my  foremost  word.     Without  your  aid 
I  had  ne'er  returned,  nor  -wrought  on  Priam's  town 
This  righteous  retribution.     Yea,  the  gods. 
Moved  by  the  unspoken  pleadings,  one  and  all 
Gave  sentence  for  the  slaughterous  sack  of  Troy. 
The  blood-stained  Vase  had  all  the  votes.     I'  the  other 
'  Hope  lingered,'  while  no  plenishing  hand  came  near. — 

Her  smoke  still  shows  the  desolate  city's  fall. 
'Tis  Ruin's  altar,  whence  the  dying  ashes 
Of  wealth  consumed  spout  forth  voluminous  breath. 
For  this  we  are  bound  to  recompense  the  gods 
With  mindful  thank-oflferings.     Our  vengeful  snare 
Held  firm,  that  none  escaped,  but  glorious  lUum 
Was,  for  a  woman's  sake,  ground  into  dust 
By  the  apparition  of  the  monstrous  birth 
That,  whilst  Orion  sank,  one  autumn  night. 
Leapt  from  the  Horse  in  Argive  panoply. 
A  ravening  lion,  o'er  the  walls  he  sprang, 
And  lapped  rich  largess  of  the  blood  of  princes. 

So  far  forth  I  address  the  gods.     JNIeanwhile, 
I  bear  in  mind  your  moderate  words,  and  like 
The  spirit  they  convey.     Your  thoughts  are  mine. 
Few  men  are  born  so  tempered,  aa  to  look 
Without  some  envy  on  a  prosperous  friend. 
The  venom  of  unkindness,  lodged  within. 
Clings  to  the  heart  and  doubles  all  annoy ; 
While  men  not  only  mind  their  own  distress, 
But  groan  at  other  men's  prosperity. 
How  well  I  know,  and  could  describe,  the  friend 
In  name,  the  mirror  of  companionship — 
Indeed  a  mirror,  a  mere  fleeting  shade. 
Odysseus  only,  who  sailed  against  his  will. 
Once  yoked  with  me,  was  ever  staunch  and  true. 

I  say  it  of  one  of  whom  to-day  I  know  not 


844-882]  AGAMEMNON  135 

If  he  be  dead  or  yet  alive. 

For  the  rest, 
Touching  the  city  and  the  gods,  we  will  call 
Our  larger  council,  and  deliberate  there 
In  full  assembly,  studying  to  preserve 
Whatever  in  the  present  state  is  well ; 
And  where  some  cure  is  needed,  we  will  try, 
With  remedies  gently  administered. 
Though  Bometime  sha-rp  and  painful,  to  prevent 
All  dangerous  malady. — Now,  to  my  hall. 
Where  my  first  greeting  shall  again  be  made 
To  the  kind  gods,  who  sent  me  safely  forth. 
And  bring  me  home  in  peace.     May  Victory, 
Since  hither  she  attends  us,  here  remain  ! 

Re-enter  Clytemnestra. 
Cly.  Ye  men  of  Argos,  elders  of  our  state, 
I  will  not  shame  to  tell  before  your  face 
My  wifely  love.     The  fear  of  man  wears  off 
With  time.     My  heart  instructs  me  to  declare 
How,  while  j^our  sovereign  tarried  before  Troy, 
Vlj  Ufe  was  doleful.     'Tis  no  light  distress 
To  sit  at  home  forlorn,  the  man  away. 
Malignant  rumours  ever  in  one's  ears. 
One  crying  he  came  ;    another,  he  had  brought 
Dishonour,  worse  even  than  his  death.     Moreover, 
Had  he  as  many  wounds  as  loose-tongued  Fame 
Gave  forth,  a  net  had  fewer  holes  than  he. 
And  had  he  died  as  often  as  'twas  said, 
A  second  Geryon,  with  three  bodies,  he 
Had  donned  a  threefold  mantle  of  earth, — I  pass 
The  abyss  of  ground  beneath  him,- — in  each  form 
Dying  once  at  least.     Vexed  by  such  wild  reports, 
I  had  often  tied  the  noose  above  my  head 
Which  others  took  perforce  from  oS.  my  neck. 
Hence,  too,  Orestes  is  not  here,  our  son. 
The  pledge  of  both  our  loves.     Nay,  marvel  not ! 
Our  kind  ally  and  friend,  Strophius  in  Phocis, 
Keeps  hijn  in  ward.     'Twas  he  admonished  me 
Of  a  twofold  danger,  thine  beneath  Troy-wall, 


136  AGA^IEjVINON  [883-919 

And  of  this  Argive  realm,  lest  popular  fury 

Upset  the  Council ; — as  mankind  are  apt. 

When  one  is  down,  to  trample  him  the  more. 

None  can  suspect  a  shallow  pretext  there. 

As  for  my  tears,  they  spouted  till  the  fount 

Ran  dry,  and  kept  no  drop.     But  on  my  bed 

Jline  eyes  were  worn  with  watching,  early  and  late. 

Grieving  because  the  fires  of  thy  return 

Were  still  unkindled.     And  amidst  my  dreams 

The  gnat's  small  peremptory  tones  would  wake  me. 

While  seeing  more  dangers  than  the  time  could  hold 

Assaihng  thee.     But  now  those  weary  days 

Are  over,  and  I  shout,  exempt  from  care, 

'  Here  stands  the  watch -dog  of  the  fold  ;  the  mainstay 

That  saves  the  vessel ;    yea,  the  lofty  pillar 

That  holds  the  roof  from  ground  : — an  only  son 

Returning  to  his  father  ;    or,  to  mariners. 

Firm  land  appearing  beyond  hope,  fair  day 

Seen  after  tempest ;    to  the  thirsty  traveller, 

A  spring  of  running  water  'mid  the  sand. 

To  escape  from  wretchedness  is  always  joy.' 

Such  terms  of  greeting  have  I  for  my  lord. 

Let  envy  rest  aloof,  since  in  the  past 

We  have  borne  much  misery.     But  now,  dear  king. 

Light  from  that  car,  not  setting  foot  on  earth, 

Thou,  that  hast  trodden  do-wTi  the  strength  of  Troy  ! 

Maidens,  why  tarry  ye,  that  have  command 

To  pave  the  floor  of  his  path  with  cloth  of  grain  T 

Let  there  be  made  forthwith  a  purple  road, 

That,  to  complete  the  Days  surprise,  great  Justice 

May  lead  him  to  his  home. 

For  what  remains. 
Considerate  thought,  not  giving  way  to  slumber. 
Shall  order  well  whate'er  the  gods  decree. 

[The  female  attendants  prepare  to  lay  the  carpet 
Agam.  Daughter  of  Leda,  guardian  of  my  Hall, 
Thy  welcome,  hke  mine  absence,  hath  been  long. 
Yet  praise  that  rightly  squares  with  my  desert 
Must  come  to  me  from  others.     Furthermore, 
Do  not,  I  pray  thee,  like  some  eastern  slave. 


920-9SO]  AGAMEMNON  137 

Meet  me  with  loud  and  prostrate  courtesies, 
Nor  with  this  woman-pleasing  luxury 
Of  purple  trappings,  pluck  down  on  my  path 
An  eye  of  envT'.     To  the  gods  alone 
Such  tribute  should  be  paid.     For  mortal  man 
To  trample  on  rich  webs  of  varied  hue 
To  me  is  a  thing  by  no  means  void  of  fear. 
I  seek  for  human  honours,  not  divine. 
Fame  needs  no  carpets  nor  embroidered  wefts 
Beneath  her  feet,  to  sound  her  note  of  praise 
And  modesty  is  Heaven's  best  gift.     When  one 
Shall  end  a  happy  hfe  in  peace  and  joy. 
Then  celebrate  his  glory  !    By  this  rule 
We  still  may  live  and  prosper,  safe  from  harm. 
Cly.  Come,  tell  me  this,  and  hide  not  your  true 

thought. 
Agam.  With  mind  unaltered  I  will  answer  thee. 
Cly.  You  might  have  vowed  this  in  some  hour  of 

peril  ? 
Agam.  I  know  it.     None  better.      Prompt  is  that 

reply. 
Cly.  And  what  of  Priam,  were  he  conqueror  now  ? 
Agam.  He  had  paved  his  path  with   broideries,  1 

believe. 
Cly.  Be  not  too  sensitive  to  vulgar  blame. 
Agam.  The  people's   muttered  verdict  hath    great 

power. 
Cly.  Who  is  not  envied,  ne'er  will  be  admired. 
Agam.  Contentiousness  in  woman  is  not  well. 
Cly.  Nay,  but  'tis  gracious,  when  a  victor  yields. 
Agam.  Is  this  a  battle  in  which  you  care  to  win  ? 
Cly.  Come,  let  me  triumph  on  the  taker  of  Troy  ! 
Agam.  If  you  must  have  it  so,  let  some  one  loose 
Tlie  shoe  that  like  a  slave  supports  my  tread  ; 
Lest,  trampling  o'er  these  royal  dyes,  some  god 
Smite  me  with  envious  glances  from  afar. 
It  awes  me  not  a  little  thus  to  plunge 
In  luxury,  walking  on  webs  of  price. 

[His  slippers  are  removed 
So,  that  is  settled.     But  receive,  I  pray  thee. 


138  AGAME^INON  [951-985 

This  stranger-woman  kindly.     Heaven  still  smiles 
When  power  is  used  with  gentleness.     No  mortal 
Is  wilhngly  a  captive,  but  this  maid. 
Of    countless     spoils    the    flower    and    crown,    wa3 

given 
To  me  by  the  army,  and  attends  me  home. 

[He  descends,  ivh'ile  Cassaxdra  remains  upon  the  car 
Now,  since  you  have  subdued  me,  I  obey. 
Thus  pacing  over  purple  to  my  hall. 

Cly.  Of  purple,  'neath  the  inexhaustible  sea. 
Enough  remains  to  garnish  many  a  realm 
With  precious  dye  for  raiment  oft  renewed. 
We  too,  my  monarch,  by  the  help  of  Heaven, 
Possess  our  share.     No  poverty  is  here  ! 
/  had  vowed  to  trample  many  a  gorgeous  robe, 
Had  oracles  enjoined  it  on  our  house. 
In  hope  of  bringing  home  this  glorious  head. 
Our  root  was  still  i'  the  ground.     But  now  returns 
The  foliage,  that  gives  shadow  from  the  heat. 
Thy  coming  is  our  warmth  in  winter  time  : 
But  at  the  season  when  Zeus  turns  the  grape 
From  sour  green  sap  to  wine,  'tis  shady  and  cool 
1'  the  palace,  whilo  its  lord  is  walking  there. 

[He  goes  in 

Zeus— thou  fulfillest  all— fulfil  my  prayer  ! 
And  take  good  heed  of  all  thou  doest  herein  ! 

[Exit  Clytemnestra 

Choku3. 

What  means  this  haunting  Fear  I  1 

Incessant  hovering  near 
To  scare  my  prescient  heart  with  vague  unrest  ? 
This  hymn,  unhired,  unbidden,  of  bodings  drear  ? 

Why  may  not  Hope  renewed 

With  bold  belief  of  good 
Regain  her  wonted  seat  in  my  dear  breast  T 
Away,  dim  dreams  !     Cease  from  your  vain  annoy  I 
The  time  is  past,  when  on  the  sandy  coast. 
Together  moored,  the  ships  their  beauty  lost, 


986-1029]  AGAME^INON  139 

Ageing,  or  ere  the  host 
Might  reach  their  haven  'neath  the  walls  of  Troy. 

Not  by  report  I  learn  I  2 

Our  hero's  home  return. 
Myself  the  eye-witness,  I  beheld  him  come. 
Yet  ne'ertheless  my  spirit  doth  inly  burn. 

And  holding  firm  no  more 

Hope's  confidence  of  yore, 
Sings  without  lyre  that  self-taught  strain  of  doom. 
Not  idly  stir  these  inward  monishings 
Within  the  throbbing  heart  that  beats  on  thought 
Of  judgement,  with  prophetic  dreams  distraught. 

Yet  may  they  come  to  nought, 
And  let  my  fears  be  unaccomplished  things  ! 

Great  health  is  prone  to  end  in  boundless  woe.       II  ] 

Disease  weighs  hard  on  the  thin  partner-waii. 
And  when  that  neighbour  hath  looked  in,  we  know 

The  man's  full  fortune  but  prepares  his  fall. 
His  ship  in  her  fair  course  with  sudden  shock 

Strikes  on  the  viewless  rock. 
Even  then,  if  caution  from  a  timely  sling 
Some  portion  of  his  wealth  to  the  ocean  fling, 
His  vessel,  lightened  of  her  fateful  load. 
Shall  save  her  timbers  from  the  raging  flood. 
Her  fabric  shall  not  founder  in  the  deep. 
Heaven's  ample  gifts  with  the  revolving  years 
Shall  banish  hunger  with  his  brood  of  fears. 
Full  harvest  from  rich  furrows  they  shall  reap. 

But  once  let  blood  of  man  drop  to  the  ground    II  2 
Before  his  time,  and  darken  all  the  sod, 

What  spell  to  call  it  upward  shall  be  found  ? 
What  leech  so  wise  ?  Though  he  were  all  but  God 

Who  learned  the  secret  of  restoring  breath 
.J  To  mortals  sunk  in  death, 

ijZeus  put  an  end  to  that  for  evermore. 

The  bound  is  set,  and  none  may  pass  it  o'er. 

Else  ere  the  tongue  could  move,  the  heart  should  speak 

Of  the  sore  bm-den,  that  now  bids  her  break, 


140  AGAMEilNON  [1030- 1066 

As,  darkly  muttering  her  dim  desire, 
O'er-fraught  with  pain,  she  may  not  hope  to  unwind 
The  ravelled  pondsrings  of  her  secret  mind. 
That  inly  burns  as  with  consuming  fire. 

Re-enter  Clytemnestka. 

Cly.  In  with  thee  too,  Cassandra  !    Get  thee  in  ! 
Since  Heaven  in  mercy  hath  consigned  thee  here 
To  share  our  household's  lustral  waters,  one 
Of  many  slaves  that  stand  around  our  hearth. 
Come  from  that  carriage.     Be  not  proud.     Descend  ! 
Have  we  not  heard,  Alcmena's  offspring  once 
Was  sold  a  slave  and  felt  the  galling  yoke  ? 
But  when  misfortune  brings  one  to  this  pass, 
'Tis  no  small  boon  to  serve  an  ancient  house  ; 
Since  they  who  have  harvested  beyond  their  hope 
Make  cruel  masters  and  exceed  the  bound. 
Thou  hast  such  greeting  as  I  use  to  a  slave. 

Cho,  She  hath  said  and  thou  hast  heard.     Her  words 
are  clear. 
And  now  thou  art  in  the  fatal  toils,  perchance 
Thou  mayst  obey  her.     But,  methinks,  thou  art  loth. 

Cly.  Well,  if  she  be  not,  like  the  immigrant  bird. 
Possessor  of  a  strange  outlandish  tongue. 
My  words  must  find  their  way  and  move  her  will. 

Cho.  (to  Cass.)  Go  with  her  !   What  she  sayeth  is  for 
the  best. 
As  things  are  now.     Come  down,  and  leave  that  car  ! 

Cly.   I  have  not  time  to  waste  out  here  with  her. 
By  this  the  victims  at  our  midmost  hearth 
Stand  ready  for  the  slaughter  and  the  fire  ; — 
Rich  thank-offerings  for  mercies  long  despaired. 
Then,  if  thou  ^\^lt  obey  me,  do  it  with  speed. 
But  if  thou  wilt  not  understand  nor  speak. 
Declare  it  with  the  gesture  of  thy  race  ! 

Cuo.  'Twould  seem  she  needs  a  clear  interpreter. 
Her  ways  are  as  of  a  creature  newly  caught. 

Cly.  Sure  she  is  mad,  and  follows  crazy  thoughts. 
Who,  leaving  her  own  city  newly  ta'en, 
Comes  hither,  and  hath  not  the  sense  to  pace 


1 067-1096]  AGAMEMNON  141 

In  harness,  till  she  foam  away  in  blood 
Her  spirit  upon  the  bit. 

I'll  not  demean  myself 
By  throwing  more  words  away.  [Exit  Clytemnestra. 
Cho.  But  I,  unhappy  one, 

Will  not  be  angry,  for  I  feel  for  thee. 
Come,  leave  that  car  deserted,  yield  to  Fate, 
And  prove  the  unaccustomed  yoke.     Descend. 

Cass,  (from  the  car).  Ai,  ai  !   O  Apollo  !    Apollo  ! 

Cho.  Wherefore  that  cry  to  Phoebus  ?   Not  for  him 
The  voice  of  mourning. 

Cass.  Ai !  Apollo  !  Apollo  ! 

Ai  !  Ai !  O  Apollo  ! 

Cho.  Again  she  summons  with  that  sound  of  woe 
The  god  whose  ears  detest  it. 

Cass.  O  my  Apollo  ! 

Builder  !  Destroyer  ! 
Builder  of  Troy  !    Destroyer  of  me  ! 
Once  more  thy  heavy  hand  with  ease  hath  ruined  me. 

Cho.  Hark  !    She  will  prophesy  of  her  despair. 
A  captive,  yet  she  holds  the  heavenly  fire  ! 

Cass.  Apollo  !    Apollo  ! 
Troy-builder  !    Destroyer  of  me  ! 
Ha  !  What  is  here  ?  What  roof  ?  Whither  hast  thou 
brought  me  ? 

Cho.  The  Atridae's  palace.     If  thou  know'st  it  not, 
I  tell  thee  plainly  ;    and  thou  wilt  find  it  true. 

Cass.  Ah  ! 
Nay,  but  a  hideous  den,  abhorred  of  Heaven  ; 
Guilt-stained    with    strangled    lives,    with    kinsmen's 

blood ; 
A  place  of  sprinkled  gore,  of  clotted  horror  ! 
Ah  !    Faugh  ! 

Cho.  Her  scent  is  keen,   this  stranger's  !     Like  a 
hound 
She  snuffs  for  blood.     And  she  will  find,  I  doubt  me. 

Cass.  Yea  1    There,  there,  there  I    Here  's  evidence 
enough  ! 
Smell  7    Nay— I  see,  I  hear  them  !    Little  children 


142  AGAMEIUNON  [1097-1129 

Whose  throats  are  cut,  still  wailing  of  their  murder. 
And  the  roast  flesh,  a  father  tasted — swallowed  ! 

Cho.  We  have  heard  of  thy  renown  in  prophecy. 
But  yet  forbear.     There  needs  no  prophet  here. 

CaS3.  Ah  !    what  is  this  ?    Oh  me  ! 

What  strange  new  grief  is  risen  ? 
A  deed  of  might !    She  plans  it  there  even  now 

Beneath  yon  roof,  a  plague 
Hard  to  remove,  not  to  be  borne  ;    an  act 
Of  hate  for  love  ;    and  succour  bides  aloof. 
Far,  far  away  ! 
Cho.  This  prophecy  is  dark  to  me.     The  last 
Was  clear.     Our  city  rings  with  that  old  woe. 
Cass.  Wretch  !    Wilt  thou  do  it  ?    Ah  me  ! 
The  lord  of  thine  embrace. 
When  thou  hast  bathed  him  that  his  bright  limbs  glow,— 

How  shall  I  tell  it  ?    'Twill  come  ! 
'Tia  here  1    She  Ufts  her  hand ;    she  launches  at  him 
Blow  following  blow. 
Cho.  I  understand  not  yet.     The  oracular  word 
Blinds  with  its  riddling  purport :    I  am  perplexed. 

Cass.  ^Vhat  apparition  ?    Oh  the  pain  !  What  is  it  ? 
Some  net  of  Death  and  Hell  ? 
Nay,  'tis  the  snare  o'  tlie  chamber,  th'  accessory 
O'  the  murder.     Let  yon  pack  that  ravins  on  the  race 
Howl,  'Out  upon  the  butchery!  Stone  her  !  Stone  her  !' 

Cho.  What  cry  of  ban-dogs  bid'st  thou  curse  the 
house  ? 
Thy  speech  appals  me.     To  my  heart  runs  back 
The  death-drop,  that  when  life  is  ebbing  fast 
From  mortal  wounds,  and  his  last  beam  is  pale. 
Falls  with  his  setting.     Oh  !    how  swift  is  sorrow  I 

Cass.  What  do  I  see  ?    Ah,  keep  away  the  cow 

From  the  lordly  bull  !    Look,  look  ! 

She  hath  caught  him  in  the  garment,  smites,  and  gores 

him 
With  that  black  weapon  of  hers.     He  falls,  he  falls 
r  the  watery  tun,  the  guileful,  fatal  cauldron  ! 


1130-1163]  AGAMEMNON  143 

Cho.  I  would  boast  of  little  skill  in  prophecies  ; 
But  I  may  guess,  this  raving  bodes  no  good. 

Yet  when  was  soothsaying  bright  ? 
What  sound  of  cheer  have  prophets  for  the  world  ? 
ll's  are  their  stock-in-trade  ;    words  are  their  tools. 

With  chanted  strains  of  woe 
Tiey  strike  vain  terror  into  mortal  mind. 

Cass.  Woe  !    for  my  hapless  doom  ! 
To  fill  the  cup,  I  tell  my  own  sad  tale  ! 
Why  hast  thou  brought  me  to  this  place  ?  Oh  misery  ! 
To  die  with  thee  ?    \Vhat  else  ?    To  die  !    to  die  ! 
Cho.  Thou  art  distraught,  or  else  possessed.     Some 
god 
Bears  thee  away  to  sing  of  thine  own  doom 

A  wild  untutored  song,  like  her 
The  brown  sweet  nightingale, — once  a  princess  yonder. 
Insatiable  of  wailing,  her  sad  heart 
Still  set  on  sorrow,  mourning  evermore 
For  Itys,  Itys  1    'Tis  her  hfe.     She  blooms 
With  misery. 

Cass,  Oh  !    for  a  lot  like  hers  ! 

The  clear- voiced  maid,  to  whom  kind  gods  have  given 
A  feathery  form  and  wings  I  Safe,  calm,  sweet  life  ! 
Mine,  to  be  cleft  in  twain  with  two-edged  brand. 

Cho.  Whence  this  returning  trouble  of  thy  soul. 
This  god-fraught,  vain  distress,  the  ill-omened  cry 

That  peals  in  terrifying  song  ? 
Whence  comes  thy  music,  whence  thy  thrilling  lay  T 
What  limits  hath  thy  Heaven-inspired  way  ? 
Who  set  them  ?    WTio  hath  given  the  evil  word 
Wherewith  thy  breast  is  stirred  ? 

Cass.  Paris,  thy  wedding  hath  destroyed  thy  house. 
Yea,  and  thy  sister  ! — O  Scamander-stream  ! 
Our  fathers  drank  of  thee,  and  by  thy  shore 
I  grew,  I  flourished,  oh  unhappy  I  ! 
But  now  by  dark  Cocytus  and  the  banks 
Of  Acheron,  my  prophecies  shall  sound. 

Cho.  Now  speak'st  thou  plainly.     Even  a  child  might 
know ; 


144  AGAMEMNON  [  1 1 64- 1 1 99 

And  when  I  hear  that  word, 
Thy  plaintive  notes  strike  me  with  cruel  stings 
Of  pity  and  wonder  for  thy  life  of  pain. 

Cass.  Troy,   thou  art  fallen,  never  to  rise.      Tliy 
woes 
No  sacrifice  abated  nor  reprieved 
Of  all  my  father  slew  before  the  towers, 
Poor  herb-fed  victims  1    Troy  is  fallen  in  fire ; 
And  I,  on  fire,  erelong  shall  fall  in  blood. 

Cho.  That  strain  agreeth  to  thy  former  words. 
Some  god  of  cruel  mind 
With  mighty  force  impels  thee  to  this  dirge. 
As  if  thy  life  were  doomed.     The  end  I  know  not. 

Cass.  No  longer,  like  a  newly  married  girl, 
My  word  shall  peep  behind  a  veil,  but,  flashing 
With  panted  vehemence  to  meet  the  day, 
'Twill  dash,  against  the  shores  of  Light,  a  sorrow 
Of  mightier  volume. 

I  will  expound  it.     Mark  me  ! 
No  riddling  now  !    Bear  witness  if  ye  find  me 
Keen  to  discern  or  agile  to  pursue 
The  trail  of  long-past  crime. 

Tliere  bides  within 
A  band  of  voices, — all  in  unison, 
Yet  neither  sweet  nor  tuneful,  for  their  song 
Is  not  of  blessing.     Ay,  a  revel-rout, 
Ever  emboldened  with  new  draughts  of  blood. 
Within  these  walls,  a  furious  multitude. 
Hard  to  drive  forth,  keeps  haunt,  all  of  one  kin. 
They  cling  to  the  walls  :  they  hymn  the  primal  cm'se. 
Their  fatal  hymn  ;    then  in  due  course  they  spurn 
A  brother's  bed,  by  a  hateful  brother  mounted. 

Say,  was  that  shaft  well  aimed  ?    Or  am  I  proved 
No  seer, — a  forward  babbler  at  the  door  ? 
Declare  this  on  your  oath  :    Have  I,  or  not, 
Learnt  one  old  secret  of  this  house  of  sin  ? 

Cho.  How  should  an  oath,  the  noblest  ever  sworn, 
Prove  healing  in  this  case  ? 

Howbeit,  I  marvel, 


1200-12333  AGAMEMNON  145 

Reared  overseas,  thou  shouldst  portray  the  state 
Of  a  strange  people,  as  thou  hadst  heard  and  seen. 

Cass.  Prophet  Apollo  thus  empowered  my  soul. 

Cho.  Was  he,  although  a  god,  smit  with  thy  love  ? 

Cass.  Time  was,  I  had  blushed  to  utter  such  a  word, 

Cho.  Well-being  is  daintier  than  adversity. 

Cass.  Sweet  was  it  when  he  wrestled  for  my  heart. 

Cho.  Came  ye  to  close  embraces,  as  men  use  ? 

Cass.  I  promised  Phoebus,  but  belied  my  troth. 

Cho.  When  fired  already  by  the  Spirit  Divine  ? 

Cass.  Already  I  foretold  my  country's  woe. 

Cho.  How  couldst  thou  'scape  the  wrath  of  Phoebus, 
then  ? 

Cass.  No  man  believed  me  from  that  fatal  hour. 

Cho.  To  us,  methinks,  thy  words  seem  true. 

Cass.  Oh  !    oh  ! 

Alas  !    my  misery  ! 

Again  the  terrible  whirlwind  comes  !    the  pain 
Of  Truth's  deliverance,  troubling  all  within  me. 

See  !    the  beginning  of  sorrows  !    WTiat  are  these 
What  dreamlike  forms  kneel  on  yon  roof?  Young  boys, 
As  they'd  been  slain  by  those  who  should  have  loved 

them. 
Holding  a  burden  piteous  to  be  borne. 
Gobbets  of  flesh,  their  very  own,  their  entrails. 
Clearly  discernible, — the  heart,  the  liver, 
Of  which  their  father  ate  ! 

For  this,  I  say. 
Vengeance  is  plotted  by  a  craven  lion 
That  tumbled  in  the  lordly  monarch's  lair 
In  his  absence, — so  kept  house  for  him, — alas  I 
My  master.     Once  a  captive,  one  must  bear  it ! 
He  ruled  the  fleet,  and  razed  the  towers  of  Ilium, 
But  knows  not  what  the  monster-woman  dares  ; 
What  sequel  to  her  garrulous  speech  and  face 
Of  welcome,  brightening  as  the  moon, — like  Ate 
Lurking  in  night, — she'll  work  vath  wicked  speed. 
The  man-slaying  woman  !    To  what  horrid  form 
Shall  I  compare  her,  and  be  true  ?    To  Scylla, 


146  AGAME:MN'0N  [1234-1268 

That  raging  mother  of  death,  dwelling  in  rocks. 

Now  rending  the  poor  mariner,  but  once 

A  pitiless  curse  to  her  own  ?  — or  Amphisbaena  ? 

Heard  ye  her  triumph  ?    Even  as  warriors  shout 
Who  turn  the  battle,  so  the  woman  cried. 
Seeming  to  joy  in  his  return  from  war. 

Ye  are  still  incredulous.     It  makes  no  difference. 
What  is  to  come,  will  come, — and  soon.     Thou,  seeing, 
Shalt  pity,  and  say,  'Her  soothsaying  was  too  true  T 

Cho.  Thyestes'  banquet  of  his  children's  flesh 
I  understood,  and  shuddered.     Fear  possessed  me 
To  hear  it  truly  given,  each  point  observed. 
But  as  I  listened  further,  I  was  lost. 

Cass.  Agamemnon's  death,  I  tell  thee,  thou  shalt  see. 

Cho.  Unhappy  one  !    Speak  no  ill-omened  word  ! 

Cass.  This  time  I  summon  not  the  god  of  heaUng  ! 

Cho.  Death  has  no  healer.     But  be  it  far,  I  pray'. 

Cass.   Ye  pray,  while  others  slay  ;    or  are  about  it. 

Cho.  What  man  can  be  the  author  of  this  woe  ? 

Cass.  Wliat  man  ?  Far  wide  indeed  that  arrow  flew  I 

Cho.  Yea,  for  I  cannot  guess  who  is  to  do  it. 

Cass.  And  yet  I  have  learnt  too  well  the  speech  of 
Hellas. 

Cho.  So  hath  the  Pythoness.  Yet  her  words  are  dark. 

Cass.  Oh  pain  !    What  burning  lire  !    it  comes,  it 
comes  ! 
Lykian  Apollo  !    Woe  !    me  miserable  ! 

This  human  lioness,  couching  with  a  wolf 

While  the  noble  lion  was  awaj'',  will  kill 

Me  the  unfortunate,  a  fair  prize,  to  make 

One  more  ingredient  in  her  chalice  of  bane. 

Sharpening  her  husband's  death-knife,  she  declares 

My  death,  too,  shall  requite  his  bringing  me. 

— Why  wear  I  still  these  mockeries  of  my  soul, 

This  wand,  these  fillets  round  my  neck  ?    I  tear  ye 

Thus  !    Go  to  your  destruction  ere  I  die  ! 

To  pieces  with  you  !    Lead  the  way  !    I  follow  \ 

Enrich  some  other  life  with  misery  ! 


1269-1303]  AGAMEMNON  147 

See  !    see  !    Apollo  !    he  is  stripping  from  me 
This  prophet-mantle. 

Ay,  thou  didst  visit  me 
Thine  eye  beheld  me,  even  in  these  hallowed  weeds, 
Insulted,  spurned,  with  those  who  loved  me  well, 
By  our  enemies  who  swept  in  like  a  flood. 
They  called  me  beggar-priestess,  roving  seer  ; 
I  bore  it, — d\ing  with  hunger,  poor,  dismayed  ! 
And  now  the  Seer  of  seers.  Prophet  supreme. 
Disrobing  here  his  prophetess,  conducts  me 
To  this  dark  ending.     For  my  father's  altar, 
What  waits  me  now  ?    The  block,  the  bloody  knife, 
The  hot  last  blow  that  ends  the  sacrifice. 
Yet  shall  we  die  not  unobserved  of  Heaven. 
He  lives,  who  shall  avenge  us.     Come  he  shall, 
The  mother-slaying  scion  of  his  race. 
Redeemer  of  his  sire's  renown.     From  far 
The  wanderer  shall  return,  and  put  the  cope 
On  these  home  troubles.     For  the  gods  in  Heaven 
Have  sworn  a  mighty  oath,  his  father's  fall 
Shall  draw  him  from  his  alien  dwelling-place. 
Why  do  I  linger  thus  and  mourn,  since  first 
I  saw  my  city's  ruin  ;    and  again 
Her  captor,  judged  of  the  gods,  receives  this  doom  ? 
I  will  go  forward  !    I  will  dare  to  die  ! 
Hail,  then,  thou  gate  of  Hell  ! 

But  first,  one  prayer  ! 
Oh,  grant  me,  all  ye  gods  !    a  mortal  wound  ! 
That  with  no  struggling,  while  the  deathful  stream 
Flows  painlessly  away,  these  eyes  may  close  ! 

Cho.  Deep-thoughted,   deeply  suffering   maid,    thy 
words 
Have  far  extended.     If  thou  know'st  thy  doom 
For  certain,  how  canst  thou,  like  god-driven  victim. 
Walk  boldly  toward  the  altar  of  thy  death  ? 

Cass.  It  may  not  be  avoided.     'Tis  the  hour  1 

Cho.  But  every  moment's  respite  has  some  worth. 

Cass.  The  time  is  come.     Small  gain  were  fiight  to  me. 

Cho.  a  bold  heart  hast  thou  for  thy  bitter  woe. 

Cass.  None  but  the  wretched  hear  such  benison. 


148  AGAMEMNON  [1304-1336 

Cho.  Yet  mortal  life  is  graced  by  a  noble  death. 

Cass.  Woe  for  thee,  father,  and  thy  noble  sons  ! 
[She  is  approaching  the  palace-gate — then  turns  aivay. 

Cho,  What  terror  turns  thee  backward  from  the  gate? 

Cass.  Ah  woe  ! 

Cho.  What's  thine  abhorrence?  or  why  criest  thou 
thus  ? 

Cass.  These  halls  exhale  with  murder  !    drip  with 
death  ! 

Cho.  'Tis  but  the  reek  of  houseliold  sacrifice. 

Cass.  'Tis  like  a  charnel-room.     It  steams  with  gore. 

Cho.  Other  than  Syrian  perfume  find'st  thou,  then  ? 

Cass.  Nay,  I  will  go  within,  and  there  bewail 
Agamemnon's  fate  and  mine.     I  have  done  with  life  I 
Oh  strangers  !    friends  ! 
I  shrink  not  idly,  like  some  timorous  bird 
Before  a  bush  !    Bear  record  in  that  day 
When  I  am  dead,  and  for  this  woman  slain 
A  woman's  life  is  taken,  and,  for  the  man 
Whose  wife  was  naught,  a  man  shall  meet  his  doom. 
Ye  hear  my  last  request  before  I  die. 

Cuo.  Poor  maid  !    We  pity  thy  prophetic  fall. 

Cass.  Once  more  I  would  speak,  not  now  with  tearS:, 
but  firmly, 
Touching  myself.     To  thee,  O  Sun,  I  pray. 
Looking  my  last  on  thee,  that  when  the  Hour 
Is  here,  and  vengeance  tarries  not,  I,  too, 
A  captive  prey, — soon  quelled, — may  be  avenged.  [Exit, 

Cno.  Ah  !    What  is  mortal  life  ?    When  prosperous, 
A  shadow  can  o'erturn  it,  and,  when  fallen, 
A  throw  o'  the  wet  sponge  blurs  the  picture  out. 
This  is  more  piteous  than  the  ruin  of  pride. 

Who  hath  e'er  been  content  with  his  triumph,  or  spoken 

to  Fortune  this  word, 
— While  men  point  with  the  finger  of  envy  at  halls  he 

hath  reared  for  his  pride, — 
'Tis  enough  !    Come  not  hither  again  ! ' 

To  this  king  the  immortals  have   given  to  vanquish 
the  glory  of  Troy, 


I337-I370]  AGAMEMNON  149 

And,  favoured  of  Heaven,  with  honour  he  comes  from 

the  war  to  his  home. 
But  if  now  to  requite  ancient  murders  he  die  in  the 
midst  of  his  joy, 
Who  shall  boast  to  be  free  from  disaster  ? 
Agam.  {within).  Ah  !    Ah  !    I  am  mortally  stricken, 

here,  in  the  palace  ! 
Cho.  1,  Hush  !     Who    cries    that   he    is    wounded, 

stricken  with  a  mortal  stroke  ? 
Agam.  Oh  me  !    Again  I  am  smitten,  to  the  death  ! 
Cho.  1.  It  was  the  king.     That  groan  concluded  all. 
*Tis  finished  !    Let  us  join  safe  counsels  here. 

Cho,  2.  Then,  hear  my  judgement.     Sound  we  an 
alarm. 
And  draw  the  city  to  the  palace-gate  ! 

Cho.  3.  Nay,  let  us  break  within  immediately. 
And  prove  the  fact  before  the  knife  be  cold. 

Cho.  4.  That  likes  me  better.     Let  us  act,  say  I, 
In  some  way.     'Tis  no  time  for  long  debate. 

Cho.   5.     One  may  see   plainly,   when    such    signs 
appear, 
Treason  and  tyranny  are  near  at  hand. 

Cho.  G.  Ay,  we  lose  time,  whilst  others  are  in  act 
And  triumph  o'er  our  solemn  feebleness. 

Cho.  7.  I  know  not   what   to  say.      To   advise   is 
hard. 
Since  counsel  is  forestalled  by  action  here. 

Cho.  8.  Hard,  say  you  !  So  think  I !  'Twere  hard,  I 
trow. 
With  reasoned  words  to  raise  the  dead  to  life. 

Cho.  9.  Then  must  we  all  our  days  be  over-awed 
To  their  subjection  who  have  stained  the  throne  ? 

Cho.  10.  To  die  were  more  endurable  than  so. 
Death  is  a  milder  doom  than  tyranny. 

Cho.  n.  Are  we  diviners,  to  conclude  from  groans 
He.  that  so  cried,  fell  with  a  mortal  stroke  ? 

Cho.  12.  Let 's  talk  no  more  of  this  until  we  know. 
Barren  conjecture  is  a  treacherous  guide. 

Leader  of  Cho.  The  sum  of  all  your  counsels,  then, 
is  this : 


150  AGAME:iDsON  [1371-1406 

That  we  make  certain  how  it  goes  with  the  king. 
[They  are  approaching  the  gate,  when  Clytejixestra 
15  discovered  tviih  the  dead  body  of  AGAMEitMOS 
enveloped  in  the  embroidered  web. 

Cly.  I,  who  spake  much  before  to  serve  my  need, 
Will  here  unspeak  it, — unappalled  by  shame. 
How  else  prepare  the  hostile  net  to  slay 
One's  foe,  supposed  one's  friend,  and  fence  it  high 
Beyond  o'erleaping  ? — Time,  and  thought  still  brooding 
On  that  old  quarrel,  brought  me  to  this  blow. 
'Tis  done,  and  here  I  stand  :  here  where  I  smote  him  ! — 
I  so  contrived  it, — that  I'll  ne'er  deny, — 
As  neither  loophole  nor  defence  was  left  him. 
I  had  set  round,  like  a  stake-net  for  fish, 
A  labyrinth  of  hangings,  with  no  outlet, 
A  limb-embarrassing  wealth  of  woven  folds. 
I  smote  him,  twice  :    and  with  the  second  groan 
He  sank  :    and  when  he  had  fallen,  I  gave  a  third 
Last  siroke,  to  crown  the  sacrifice,  and  grace 
Pluto,  preserver  of  the  dead.     Even  then. 
His  soul  on  wing  for  Hades,  his  keen  breath 
Smote  me  with  drops  of  slaughter,  whose  dark  dew 
Refreshed  my  spirit,  even  as  the  bladed  corn 
That  swells  to  the  ear,  delighteth  in  heaven's  rain. 
Such — oh  ye  Argive  elders  who  stand  here, — 
Such  is  the  fact.     Whereat,  an  if  ye  will. 
Rejoice  ye  !    Howsoe'er,  it  is  my  boast. 
Yea,  were  libation  meet  o'er  human  victim, 
Here  'twere  most  righteous.     Such  a  cup  of  death 
He  filled  with  household  crime,  and  now,  returning. 
Has  drained  in  retribution. 

Cho.  Wondrous  bold 

Of  tongue  art  thou,  to  boast  thus  o'er  thy  lord  ! 

Cly.  Presume   ye,    as    though   my    thoughts    were 
womanish  ? 
I  dare  your  wisdoms.     Ye  know  all,  and — blame  me 
Or  praise, — 'tis  one  to  me.     This  corpse,  I  tell  you. 
Is  Agamemnon,  once  my  lord  ; — his  death 
The  work  of  this  right  hand,  proud  to  have  wrought 
A  masterpiece  so  righteous.     Ay,  'tis  true. 


1407-1432]  AGAMEMNON  151 

Cho.  Woman,  what  evil  food  1 

From  either  element,  of  earth  or  sea. 
Solid  or  liquid,  mingling  with  thy  blood 
Hath  prompted  thee 
To  kill  such  sacrifice,  and  then 
Fling  back  from  thee  the  muttered  curse  of  men  ? 
Hast  thou  cut  him  off  ?  Thou  shalt  be  cut  off  from  the 
state  ; 
Our  citizens  shall  hate  thee  with  firm  hate. 

Cly.  That  is  your  sentence.     I  must  fly  the  land 
With  public  execration  on  my  head. 
Wise  justicers  !    what  said  ye.  then,  to  him 
"V\Tio  slew  his  child,  nor  recked  of  her  dear  blood 
More  than  if  sacrificing  some  ewe-lamb 
From  countless  flocks  that  choked  the  teeming  fold, 
But  slew  the  priceless  travail  of  my  womb 
For  a  charm,  to  allay  the  wind  from  Thrace  ?  How  say 

you  ? 
Should  he  not  have  been  banished  by  your  voice 
To  purge  the  state  ?    Yet,  hearing  of  my  deed. 
Ye  are  swift  and  harsh  in  judgement. 

Threaten,  then. 
Even  as  ye  list ;    but  so  as,  being  assured. 
That  force  must  win  the  day.     If  so  ye  win, 
I  yield.     But  if  Zeus  give  my  plans  success, — 
And  they  are  deeply  laid, — you  shall  be  taught. 
Old  as  ye  are  to  learn,  the  path  of  peace. 

Cho.  Haughty  thy  spirit,  and  proud  2 

Thy  vaunting.     But  as  thine  infatuate  soul 
Inflamed  with  murder,  in  defiance  loud 
Contemns  control. 
While  lurid  light  is  in  thine  eye. 
Intoxicate  with  impious  butchery, — 
Unavenged,  with  no  lover  at  hand,  in  thy  Destiny's 
day. 
With  blow  for  blow  the  forfeit  thou  shalt  pay. 

Cly.  Say  you  ?    Then  hear  mine  oath.     By  mighty 
Justice, 


152  AGAMEMNON  [i432-i4;o 

Final  avenger  of  my  murdered  child. 

By  Ate  and  Erinys,  gods  of  power. 

To  whom  I  sacriticed  this  man,  I  look  not 

For  danger  as  an  inmate,  whiles  our  hearth 

Is  lightened  by  Aegisthus,  evermore. 

As  hitherto,  constant  in  love  to  me  ; 

My  shield,  my  courage  !   He  is  fallen,  who  shamed  me 

In  dalliance  with  Chryseis  and  the  rest 

Before  the  Trojan  wall.     Ay,  and  that  other. 

His  prophet-mistress,  his  oracular  love. 

His  captive-conqueress,  that  shared  his  bed 

On  shore,  his  bench  i'  the  ship : — she  too  now  lies 

In  death.     They  have  full  recompense.     You  see 

His  fortune — as  for  her,  she  tuned  her  lay 

Most  swanlike  for  her  end,  wailing  their  doom. 

So  died  the  damsel  this  man  brought  to  lend 

New  savour  to  the  softness  of  my  bed. 

Cho.  O  for  some  speedy  "stroke,  1 1 

Not  of  sharp  agony  nor  lingering  pain. 
To  bring  on  us  the  unawakening  sleep  ! 
Since  he,  our  gentlest  guardian,  is  subdued. 
And  through  a  woman's  guilt. — A  woman  slew  him  ! 
Infatuate  Helen,  who  alone  didst  send 
So  many  souls  to  Hades  before  Troy  ! 
A  life  worth  all  the  rest  thy  sister's  deed 
Hath  quenched  in  darkness.     From  one  little  seed 
Is  grown  a  strong  and  ever-spreading  tree 
Of  man-destroying  strife  and  misery. 

Cly.  Pray  not  for  your  death,  overburdened  with 
what  hath  been  done  ; 

Neither  turn  your  displeasure  on  Helen,  of  Hellas  the 
bane, 

Who  sped  many  souls  to  destruction  and  caused  unen- 
durable pain  ! 

Cho.  O  demon  of  the  home,  I  2 

That  with  alternate  violence  doth  fall 
On  either  branch  of  Pelops'  ancient  line. 
Thou  to  my  bitter  sorrow  wieldest  here 


1470-1506]  AGAMEJINON  153 

Man- braving  boldness  in  a  woman's  mind. 
Like  hateful  raven,  o'er  her  husband's  corse 
She  stands  and  croaks  at  us,  in  accents  hoarse, 
Her  proudly  inharmonious  funeral  hymn. 

Cly.  At  length  there  is  truth  on  your  lips.     Ye  name 
rightly  the  Fiend  overgrown 
Whose  seed  in  this  mansion  was  sown. 
'Tis  of  him  that  the  blood-lapping  lust  at  its  core  hath 

been  nursed. 
Ere  the  grief  from  old  wounds  hath  abated,  fresh  foun- 
tains of  bloodshed  are  burst. 

Cho.  Mighty  and  fell  of  wrath  II  1 

Declar'st  thou  then  the  Genius  of  the  race ; 
Kecalling  a  disastrous  history 
Of  dire  offences  irremediable 

And  endless.     Zeus  the  cause  : — for  what  in  man 
Eludes  the  author  of  the  Eternal  Plan  ? 

Oh  king,  my  king,  how  shall  I  weep  for  thee  ? 
What  words  of  affection  shall  flowfrom  my  heart? 
Thou  art  there  in  that  web  of  the  spider,  dishonoured  in 
death. 
Oh  horror  !    oh  murderous  guile  ! 
Dishonoured,  and  cleft  with  the  sword. 
The  warm  life  yet  running  from  thee  ! 

Cly.  Ye  proclaim  it  my  deed.     Yet  beware  I 
Say  not  I  was  wife  to  the  king. 
'Tis  the  spirit  of  Vengeance  awaking  from  sleep 
For  the  banquet  by  Atreus  of  old  to  Thyestes  cruelly 

given. 
Putting  on  the  resemblance  of  her  that  was  queen  to 
the  dead. 
That  hath  visited  all  upon  him. 
And  hath  sternly  repaid  a  grown  victim  for  little  ones 
slain. 

Cho.  That  this  is  not  thy  work  II  2 

Who  will  bear  witness  ?    The  offence  is  thii'e, 
Whatever  spirit  of  hoarded  recompense 


154  AGAMEMNON  [1507-1546 

From  elder  ages  may  have  wrought  with  thee. 
Not  yet  accomplished  is  the  course  of  strife. 
The  clotted  guilt  of  infant  gore  yet  cries 
For  kindred  streams  of  bloody  sacrifice, 
All  from  one  source,  life  rendered  still  for  life. 

Oh  king,  my  king,  how  shall  I  weep  for  thee  ? 
What  words  of  affection  shall  flow  from  my  heart? 
rhou  art  there  in  that  web  of  the  spider,  dishonouied  in 
death. 
Oh  horror  !    oh  murderous  guile  ! 
Dishonoured,  and  cleft  with  the  sword. 
The  warm  life  yet  running  from  thee  ! 

Cly.  Prate  not  of  dishonour  !     '  Deserving '    were 

rather  the  word.  HE 

Had  he  not  prepared  for  his  house  an  encumbrance  of 

woe  ? 

Let  him  not  loudly  plead  there  below 

That  in  paying  the  price  of  her  death  whom  a  nation 

deplored. 
The  branch  I  had  reared  from  his  loins,  he  is  slain  with 
iniquitous  sword. 
Jlen  shall  reap  what  they  sow  ! 
Cno.  I  am  baffled  and  amazed,  and  know  not  whither 
To  turn  me  now  the  house  begins  to  totter 
Lashed  with  red  rain,  that  saps  it  to  the  fall. 
I  fear  it !    This  is  no  mere  drizzling  shower. 
Fate  now  is  whetting  Justice'  heavy  sword 
On  a  new  whetstone,  for  fresh  deeds  of  harm. 

0  Earth,  Earth  !    would  thou  hadst  covered  me. 

Ere  I  saw  in  his  low-lying  bed, 
'Twist  the  sides  of  yon  bath-tub  of  silver,  the  king  whom 
I  love  ! 

Who  shall  bury  his  corpse,  who  lament  him  ? 

Wilt  thou  have  the  heart, 
Having  slain  thine  own  husband,  to  peal  forth  his  dirge 
And   atone  with   light  breath  for  the  heavy  offence 
thou  hast  done  ? 


1547-1586]  AGAMEMNON  155 

Ah,  who  shall  be  found  to  repeat  for  the  man  now 

divine 
The  due  praise  o'er  his  grave,  pouring  tears  with  each 
word  sorely  wrung 
By  deep  thought  from  the  truth  of  his  soul  ? 
Cly.  Have  no  care.    'Tis  not  yours  to  provide.     I  will 
bury  the  man  whom  I  slew. 
No  train  from  the  palace  shall  wail  round  his  bier.     But 

his  daughter,  to  yield  him  his  due. 
Running  forward  to  welcome  her  sire  at  the  quickly 

passed  ford  of  the  dead, — 
His  Iphianassa, — shall  open  her  arms  and  shall  cling, 
With  a  kiss,  to  the  king  ! 

Cho.  Eeproaches  cross.    The  battle  is  hard  to  judge. 
Robber  is  robbed,  slayer  slain.     Revenge  is  sure. 
Firm  stands,  while  Zeus  remains  upon  his  throne, 
One  law,  '  Wlio  doeth  shall  suffer.'     Who  may  cast 
The  brood  of  curses  from  yon  roof  ?    The  race 
Is  joined  and  welded  to  calamity. 

Cly.  Therein  thou  hast  prophesied  aright.     But  I 
Here  make  my  compact  with  the  hellish  Power 
That  haunts  the  house  of  Atreus.     What  has  been, 
Though  hard,  we  will  endure.     But  let  him  leave 
This  roof,  and  plague  some  other  race  henceforth 
With  kindred-harrowing  strife.     Small  share  of  wealtn 
Shall  amply  serve,  now  I  have  made  an  end 
Of  mutual-murdering  madness  in  this  hall. 

Enter  Aegisthus. 

Aeq.  Sweet  day  of  recompense,  I  hail  thy  light  I 
Now,  lords  of  yon  wide  heaven,  I  recognize 
Your  jurisdiction  o'er  the  griefs  of  men. 
When  I  behold  this  man,  to  my  great  joy. 
Laid  in  yon  shroud  of  the  Erinyes, 
So  punished  for  his  father's  act  of  guile. 
Atreus  his  father,  ruling  the  Argive  land. 
But  challenged  of  his  right,  to  tell  it  plainly. 
By  his  own  brother  and  my  sire,  Thyes'ces, 
Drave  him  an  exile  from  his  country  and  home. 


156  AGAMEMNON  [i  587-1619 

Then  poor  Thyestes,  coming  back  to  Argo3 

A  humble  suppliant  at  his  brother's  hearth. 

Obtained  remission  of  the  doom  of  death. 

And  Atreus,  feigning  gladness  that  these  fields 

Should  not  be  darkened  with  fraternal  blood. 

Received  him  at  a  banquet,  with  great  show, 

But  little  heart,  of  hospitality. 

As  holding  a  high  day  of  sacrifice. 

He  set  before  him — his  own  children's  flesh. 

The  feet  and  hands  with  tell-tale  finger-tips 

He  kept  concealed  where  by  himself  he  sate 

At  head  o'  the  board :    and  with  those  marks  away 

My  father  knew  not,  but  received  and  ate 

What  brought  unbounded  sorrow,  as  thou  seest. 

To  all  our  race.     For  when  he  came  to  know 

The  horror  that  was  wrought,  sickening  he  fell 

Back  from  that  carnage  with  a  crj'',  and  laid 

This  dreadful  curse  on  the  Pelopidae, 

That  as  he  kicked  the  banquet  to  the  ground, 

All  Pelops'  line  might  have  like  overthrow. 

Hence  came  his  fall  you  now  behold. 

And  I 
Have  the  best  right  to  have  contrived  his  death. 
I,  my  poor  father's  thirteenth  child,  was  driven 
Along  with  him,  a  babe  in  swaddling  bands. 
Now,  Justice  brings  me  home,  a  man  indeed. 
And  while  still  out  of  doors  I  laid  my  hand 
On  this  mine  enemy,  with  plans  secure 
Weaving  the  plot  that  should  entangle  him 
So  that  to-day  I  were  not  loth  to  die, 
Seeing  him  fast  in  Retribution's  net. 

Cho.  Aegisthus,  to  insult  over  the  fallen 
Wins  not  my  homage.     You  confess  to  have  slain 
Agamemnon  by  your  will ;    alone  to  have  planned 
This  piteous  massacre  !    The  people's  curse 
Awaits  thee,  be  thou  sure,  with  stones  to  boot. 

Aeq.  Thou  say'st  it !    thou,  that  pliest  the  nether 
oar. 
While  those  on  the  top-bench  manage  the  spear  ! 
Thine  age  shall  find  how  hard  a  lesson  'tis 


1620-1651]  AGAMEMNON  157 

When  old  men  have  to  learn  obedience. 

Bondage  and  prison-fare  combined  with  eld 

Work  miracles  in  healing  froward  spirits. 

Behold  the  proverb  here  exemplified : — 

'  Kick  not  at  goad-pricks,  else  your  heels  shall  rue  ! ' 

Cho.  {to  Cly.)  Woman,  and  when  the  king  returned 
from  war, 
Hadst  thou,  that  kept  his  house,  shaming  moreover 
Thy  husband's  bed,  prepared  for  him  this  death  ? 

[Clytemnkstra  remains  silent. 

Aeg.  Again  your  tongue  leads  you  the  way  to  woe  ! 
The  opposite  of  Orpheus'  voice  is  thine. 
He  drew  all  after  him  with  charming  lay. 
But  thou,  with  foolish  clamour  rousing  wrath, 
Shalt  be  dragged  off,  that  power  may  humble  thee. 

Cho.  Methinks  I  see  thee  lord  of  Argive  men  ! 
That,  when  thou  hadst  devised  this  massacre. 
Too  craven  wert  thyself  to  strike  the  blow. 

Aeg.  Guile  was  the  woman's  function.      I,  more- 
over. 
Had  waked  suspicion  from  our  ancient  feud. — 
His  wealth  is  mine  to  use,  and  I  will  use  it 
To  rule  your  city.     He  that  disobeys 
Shall  be  bowed  down  beneath  my  heavy  yoke. 
No  minion  of  the  side-trace  and  the  stall  ! 
Darkness  and  hunger,  grooming  him  together. 
In  harsh  consent  shall  join  to  make  him  tame. 

Cho.  Thou  didst  not  quell  him,  coward  that  thou 
wert. 
Thou  durst  not  cope  with  him  ;    a  woman  slew  him, 
Staining  our  country  and  our  country's  gods  ! 
O  that  Orestes,  if  he  lives  to-day. 
Might  yet  return  auspiciously  to  Argos, 
And  kill  both  tyrants  in  his  prime  of  power  ! 

Aeg.  So,  ye  choose  that  line  of  talk  and  conduct !  Ye 

shall  quickly  find 

Ho.  brave  guards,  come  rally  round  me!  Here  '3  a  field- 
day  to  your  mind. 

Cao.  Come,  let  every  man  make  ready  for  the  en- 
counter, sword  in  hand  ! 


158  AGAMESmON  [1652-1666 

Aeg,  Come,  I  dare  the   death  in  combat  for  mine 

empire  o'er  the  land. 
Cho.     Death  ! '    that  word  is  right :    I  embrace  it. 

Fortune,  let  the  omen  stand  ! 
Cly.  Dearest  one,  let  strife  have  ending.     Add  not  to 
the  heap  of  ill : 
As  it  is,  of  troublous  labour  we  are  doomed  to  reap  our 

fill. 
Woes  enow  are  here  already  ;  let  not  blood  o'erpass  the 

bound. 
Back,  ye  dotards  ;    know  your  places  !    Run  in  your 

appointed  round. 
Lest  ye  rue  the  deeds  \'e  ponder  ;  let  your  rude  conten- 
tion cease  ! 


Might  but  this  be  all  of  sorrow,  we  would  bargain  now 

for  peace. 
Harassed  by  the  heavy  heel  of  God  that  trampled  on 

our  lot. 
So  resolves  my  woman's  wisdom,  whether  men  give  heed 
or  not, 
Aeo.  Can  I  bear  that  these  should  idly  from  submis- 
sion break  awaj% 
Flaunting  proud  rebellious  phrases  in  defiance  of  my 

sway. 
Holding  light  the  Power  that  guides  us  as  our  Provi- 
dence to-day  ? 
Cho.  Men  of  Argos  ne'er  will  cringe  in  homage  to  a 

man  of  crime. 
Aeg.  You  shall  j^et  repent  that  language,  visited  in 

aftertime, 
Cho,  Not  if  God  direct  Orestes  homeward  for  his 

people's  good. 
Aeg,  Well  I  know  that  men  in  exile  make  of  Hope 

their  daily  food. 
Cho,  Do  thy  worst !  Grow  fat,  polluting  Justice,     It 

is  now  thine  hour, 
Aeg,  Know  that  one  day  for  this  folly  thou  shalt 
answer  to  my  power. 


1667-1678]  AGAMEMNON  1-59 

Cho.  Boast  thee  without  fear  exulting,  like  a  cock 

beside  the  hen  ! 
Cly.  Care  not  for  the  idle  yelpings  of  these  old  and 
feeble  men. 
I  and  thou  together  ruling  with  a  firm  and  even  hand 
Will  control  and  keep  in  order  both  the  palace  and  the 
land. 


THE   CHOEPHOROE 

OR 

LIBATION-BEARERS 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

Orestes. 

Pylades. 

Chorus  of  Trojan  Captives. 

Electra. 

The  Nurse  of  Orestes. 

Clytemnestka. 

>                            Aegisthtjs. 

*                               A  Porter. 

An  Attendant. 

Scene — (1)  Before  the  tombs  of  the  Pelopidae.  The 
tomb  of  Agamemnon  and  a  bust  of  Hermes  are  in  the 
foreground,  (2)  Afterwards,  before  the  palace  of  the 
Pelopidae. 

Time— About  ten  years  after  the  death  of  Agamemnon. 


AFTHBthe  murder  of  Agamemnon  Aegisthus  and  Clytem- 
nestra  have  been  reigning  for  some  years  at  Argos.  The 
people  are  discontented,  but  on  the  whole  submissive. 
Menelaus  is  still  absent.  The  only  friends  of  Agamemnon 
in  the  Palace  are  (1)  Electra,  whom  her  mother  treats  as 
a  slave  ;  (2)  the  Trojan  captive  women  whom  he  bad 
brought  home  with  Cassandra  (these  form  the  Chorus  of 
the  Choephoroe)  ;  and  (3)  the  Nurse  of  Orestes,  who  is 
retained  as  one  of  the  household.  Orestes  is  now  grown 
to  manhood,  and,  impelled  by  the  oracle  of  Delphi,  returns 
from  Phocis,  with  his  friend  Pylades.  to  execute  vengeance 
on  the  murderers  of  his  father.  Electra  and  the  Trojan 
women  have  been  sent  by  Clytemnestra  with  an  offering 
to  the  shade  of  Agamemnon,  who  is  more  likely  to  be 
propitious  to  them  than  to  his  murderess, — in  consequence 
of  an  alarming  vision,  in  which  the  Queen  has  dreamt  of 
giving  birth  to  a  serpent,  and  taking  it  to  her  breast. 
Electra  pours  the  libation  with  very  different  prayers  from 
those  intended  by  Clytemnestra, — above  all  for  her  brother's 
return  ;  whereupon  Orestes  reveals  himself,  and  declares 
his  purpose.  He  is  urged  to  the  fulfilment  of  it  by  Electra 
and  by  the  Trojan  women,  who  join  with  him  in  a  solemn 
and  earnest  appeal  to  the  soul  of  the  dead  to  assist  his 
avengers. 

Orestes  then  approaches  the  palace-gate.  The  gate- 
keeper at  length  opens  to  him,  and  Clytemnestra  comes 
forth.  Orestes  in  disguise  reports  his  own  death.  His 
mother  receives  the  news  with  well-feigned  grief :  but  gives 
a  good  reception  to  the  supposed  messenger.  They  go 
into  the  Palace  :  Clji;emnestra  to  her  own  apartments, 
Orestes  and  Pylades  to  the  guest-chambers. 

Aegisthus,  summoned  by  the  Nurse,  arrives  from  out  of 
doors,  and  follows  them.  Shortly  afterwards,  his  death- 
shriek  is  heard.  Clytemnestra  is  called  in  haste  from  the 
women's  apartments,  and  at  once  reaUzes  the  truth.  She 
cries  out  for  an  axe,  but  before  it  is  brought,  Orestes  is 
discovered,  with  the  corpse  of  Aegisthus  beside  him. 
Clytemnestra  wails  over  the  death  of  her  lover.     This 


164 

rouses  the  fury  of  Orestes.  But  Lis  mother  uncovers  her 
breast,  and  appeals  to  that  sacred  symbol  of  maternity. 
The  son  is  for  a  moment  shaken.  But  Pj^lades  (who  speaks 
only  here)  recalls  to  his  friend's  mind  the  oracle  of  Apollo. 
From  this  point,  pleading  and  menace  are  alike  in  vain.  In 
her  extremity,  the  courage  of  Clytemnestra  rises  to  its 
former  height,  and  she  threatens  Orestes  with  the  furies 
that  wait  on  matricide.  The  dreadful  act  is  accomplished 
within  the  Palace,  and  the  Chorus  utter  a  strain  of  mingled 
sadness  and  joy — in  which,  however,  joy  is  predominant. 
But  a  change  is  at  hand.  Orestes  is  again  discovered,  with 
the  dead  bodies  of  both  his  victims,  and  vindicates  his  action 
by  displaying  the  fatal  garment  in  which  Agamemnon  had 
been  slain.  In  the  midst  of  his  self-defence,  however,  his 
mind  falters,  and,  when  he  has  declared  his  purpose  of 
going  to  Delphi  for  purgation,  he  sees  the  Erinyes  ad- 
vancing towards  him,  and  he  flees  forth  as  pursued  by  them. 


THE   CHOEPHOROE 

OB 

LIBATION-BEARERS 

Orestes  {with  Pylades). 

Orestes.  O  Hermes  of  the  Shades,  that  watchest 
over 
My  buried  father's  right,  be  now  mine  aid. 
I  come  from  exile  to  this  land.     Oh  save  me  ! 


Father,  here  standing  at  thy  tomb,  I  bid  thee 
Hear  me  !    Oh,  hear  ! 

[He  lays  two  locks  of  hair  on  the  grave. 


One  lock  for  Inachus, 
Whose  waters  nursed  my  growing  life  ;    and  one 
In  mourning  for  the  dead.  .  .  . 
Father,  I  was  not  here  to  wail  thy  death. 
I  stretched  no  hand  of  farewell  to  thy  bier. 


Soft !    What  are  these  ?    I  see  a  company 
Of  women,  whose  dark  raiment  should  portend 
Some  wintry  mission.     WTiat  can  be  the  cause  ? 
Is  some  new  sorrow  fallen  upon  the  house  ? 
Or  may  I  trust  my  mind's  presage,  that  these 
Are  laden  with  drink-otferings  for  my  sire, 
Such  as  appease  the  wrath  of  powers  below  ? 
It  must  be  so.     For  look  !    Electra  there, 
Distinguished  by  deep  grief,  comes  slowly  on  ; 
My  sister  1    Zeus  !    grant  me  to  wreak  the  death 
Of  my  great  father  :    give  me  gracious  aid  ! 
Dear  Pylades,  let  us  withdraw,  and  mark 
What  means  this  female  supplication  here. 

[They  retire- 


166  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [22-48 

Enier  Electra  :    ajter  her  the  Chorus. 

Chorus. 

In  haste  from  yonder  halls  we  are  sped  1 1 

Bearing  libation  for  the  dead. 

My  head  resounds  with  many  a  blow. 

And  on  my  cheek  the  crimson  glow 

Doth  shine,  that  hands  have  printed  fresh 

With  furrowing  nails  on  tender  flesh. 

(Groans  are  my  spirit's  lifelong  food. 

By  haunting  sorrow  still  renewed.) 

These  modest  folds  that  shroud  my  breast  I  tear 

With  deafening  noise  that  echoes  my  despair, 

Rending  the  flaxen  woof, 

Because  the  palace-roof 

Knows  one  more  stroke  to-day 

Of  laughterless  dismay. 

A  dream-born  cry  at  dead  of  night,  I  2 

Stiffening  the  hair  with  wild  affright. 
Fierce  rushing  with  tempestuous  blast 
Throughout  the  women's  chamber  passed. 
Bursting  from  out  the  inmost  room. 
It  scattered  sleep,  it  pierced  the  gloom : 
A  prophet  dread  was  the  dire  dream 
That  in  the  house  raised  that  fell  scream. 
And  when  the  dream-interpreters  were  found, 
They  cried  aloud,  by  heavenly  sureties  bound, — 

'  One  rages  there  beneath 

^Menacing  death  for  death. 

He  never  will  forgive 

His  slayers,  die  they,  or  live.' 

Hence  the  unblest  mission  for  averting  bane         II  1 
The  godless  woman  sends  me  to  sustain. 
O  holiest  Earth,  she  is  eager  !    But  I  fear 
To  broach  this  word  for  divine  ears  to  hear. 

\^niat  gifts  can  stay  the  rod. 
When  blood  hath  stained  the  sod  ? 


49-79]  OR  LIBATION- BEARERS  167 

[Here  they  point  to  the  palace. 
O  home  of  despair,  undermined  to  thy  fall 
By  a  hate  long  engendered  in  freeman  and  thrall, 
What  horror  enshrouds  thee  !    It  blots  out  the  sun. 

Sorrow  reigns.     Joy  is  done  ! 
Gross  darkness  envelops  the  mansion,  abhorred 

For  the  death  of  its  lord. 

The  majesty  that  once  subdued  this  folk  II  2 

In  speechless  awe  beneath  the  unquestioned  yoke, 
With  listening  ear  and  humbled  heart,  is  gone  ! 
Trembling  hath  seized  on  Argos'  ancient  throne  ! 

WTiere  Fortune  makes  abode, 
There  is  the  people's  god  ! 

But  Justice  her  balance  is  holding  above : 

She  will  visit  for  sin,  whether  slowly  she  move. 

Or  swift ; — noon  or  evening,  what  matters  the  hour  ? 

Whether  twilight  have  power, 
Or  night  have  come  down  ere  the  doom  be  declared, 

Not  a  soul  shall  be  spared. 

Blood  is  decreed  (as  if  with  iron  pen  III  1 

'Twere  graven  on  brass)  to  atone  for  blood  of  men. 
Deep  Earth  once  drank  and  shall  not  lose  again. 
Sorrow  shall  tear  his  heart  who  made  to  flow 
That  bitter  fount  of  still  upswelling  woe. 

He  who  hath  once  unsealed  the  virgin  bower.    III  2 
Can  ne'er  undo  his  deed  :    nor  shall  the  power 
Of  all  Earth's  rivers,  in  one  flood,  restore 
To  purity  the  hand  once  tinged  with  gore  ! 

Leader  of  Cho.  But  helpless  is  my  lot     The  gods 
let  down  IV 

A  cruel  net  round  all  our  town. 
And  I  was  borne,  far  from  my  father's  hall, 
Where  I,  a  foreign  thrall. 
Must  pass  my  life  obedient  to  the  sway 
Of  powers  that  reign  to-day. 
Just  or  perverse,  their  bidding  must  be  done. 


168  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [80-116 

Howe'er  my  heart  reluctant  groan 

With  hatred  of  their  violent  -will. 

My  passion  must  be  still. 

But  shivering  sobs  within  my  garments'  fold 

Mourn  secretly  the  righteous  cause  gro^vn  cold. 

Of  him,  my  lord  of  old. 

El.  Ministrant  women,  orderers  of  the  house, 
Since  ye  move  with  me  to  this  suppliant  rite. 
Be  ye  my  counsellors,  how  I  must  perform  it. 
When  I  shall  pour  this  tribute  at  the  grave. 
What  words  will  be  in  tune,  what  prayer  will  please  T 
Shall  I  say,  Father,  from  a  loving  wife 
This  comes  to  thy  dear  soul :    yea,  from  my  mother  ? 
That  dare  I  not. — I  know  not  how  to  speak. 
Shedding  this  draught  upon  my  father's  tomb. 
Or  shall  I  say,  as  mortals  use.  Give  back 
The  giver  meet  return  ?    to  wit,  some  evil  ? 
Or  in  dishonoured  silence,  as  he  fell. 
Shall  I  give  Earth  to  drink  of  this,  and  go. 
Like  one  who  carries  offal  forth  and  jerks 
The  jar  behind  with  unregarding  eye  ? 
Be  sharers  of  this  counsel,  dear  my  friends  ! 
We  bear  a  common  hatred  in  the  hall. 
Hide  not  your  thoughts  within  for  fear  of  any. 
Since  Destiny  holds  in  her  iron  grasp 
Sovereign  and  slave  alike.     Be  kind,  and  speak. 

Cho.  Yea,    from    the    heart    we    will    speak.     Thy 
father's  tomb 
With  sacred  awe  constrains  us  to  thy  will. 

El.  Speak,  as  ye  fear  my  father's  resting-place  ! 

Cho.  So  pray  that  friends  may  bear  with  reverent 
heed. 

El.  What  friends  ?  Who  are  they  that  should  care  to 
hear  ? 

Cho.  Thyself,  and  whoso  hates  Aegisthus'  sway. 

El.   My  prayer  extends,  then,  to  myself  and  youT 

Cho.  Let  thine  own  heart  consider,  and  declare. 

El.  WTiat  other  should  I  rank  upon  our  side  ? 

Cho.  Think  of  Orestes,  though  he  be  not  here. 

El.  Well  said  and  wisely  !   That  most  heartens  me. 


II7-ISI]       OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  169 

Cho.  Then  think  of  those  who  shed  this  blood,  and 
pray — 

El.  How  ?    Teach  me  ;    I  am  ignorant.    Speak  on. 

Cho.   Some  power,  divine  or  human,  may  descend — 

El.  To  judge  or  execute  ?    What  wilt  thou  say  ? 

Cho.  Few  words,  but  clear :    To  kill  the  murderer. 

El.  But  will  the  gods  not  frown  upon  such  prayer  ? 

Cho.  Do  they  not  favour  vengeance  on  a  foe  ? 

El.  0  mightiest  herald  both  in  Heaven  and  Hell, 
Assist  me,  Hermes  of  the  shades,  and  tell  me 
My  prayer  is  heard  by  those  beneath  the  ground. 
The  Powers  that  keep  watch  o'er  my  father's  home. 
And   by  great  Earth,  who  teems  with  all,  and  feeds 

them, 
And  takes  them  back  for  seed  to  her  own  womb. 
— I,  pouring  this  lustration  for  the  dead. 
Speak  thus  appealingly :    My  father,  pity 
Thy  child,  and  let  Orestes  be  brought  home. 
For  now  we  are  lost,  your  dear  ones  :    sold,  disowned, 
By  her  that  bare  us  ;    who  has  ta'en  for  husband 
Aegisthus,  thy  part-murderer,  in  thy  room. 
I  am  no  better  than  a  slave  ;    Orestes 
Is  banished  from  his  wealth  ;    and  o'er  thy  woe 
They  gloat  in  luxury  and  towering  pride. 
Then,  father,  hear  my  prayer,  that  to  this  land 
Orestes  come  with  Fortune  leading  him. 
And  for  myself,  grant  me  a  better  mind 
Than  e'er  my  mother  had,  and  hands  more  pure. 
This  prayer  is  for  thy  children :    on  thy  foes 
Let  thine  avenger  rise  with  recompense. 
To  make  the  murderers  pay  thee  death  for  death  : 
(This  curse  must  mar  my  perfect  prayer)  :    0  father, 
Send  us  from  where  thou  liesb  some  boon  above. 
With  Heaven  and  Earth  and  conquering  Right  for  aid  ! 
Such  prayers  doth  this  hbation  crown. — Now  ye 
Adorn  with  wailing  dirge  the  solemn  rite. 
And  hymn  the  dead  with  customary  cry. 

[As  the  folloiving  lines  are  chanted,  Electea  pours 
three  several  libations.  In  doing  so,  she  ob- 
serves the  'och  of  hair,  and  takes  it  up. 


170  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [152-177 

Cho.     Wail  ye  !    let  the  tear  dovm  flow 
For  the  lord  that  here  lies  low. 
Sound  his  dirge  before  the  hill, 
That  fends  alike  haps  good  and  ill. 
]\Iay  the  ciirse  our  hearts  abhor. 
May  the  portent  we  deplore, 
Be  averted  by  the  power 
Of  the  soft  libation's  shower  ! 
Hear  us,  master,  ever  kind. 
Hear  us  in  thy  darkened  mind  ! 

— Woe  for  us  and  woe  for  thee,  [ToElectra. 
Child  of  cureless  misery  ! 

^^1lere  is  he  that  was  to  come 
And  redeem  the  royal  home  ? 
— flighty  spearman,  with  strong  hand 
Closed  on  the  descending  brand  ! 
From  his  bow  of  Scj^thian  bend 
Swift  the  War-god's  shaft  to  send  ! 
Holding  firm,  in  act  to  kill, 
Bow  and  brand  and  dauntless  will ! 
El.  Earth   now   has   drained   that  offering  to  my 
sire. 
But  here, — what  think  ye  ?    There  is  more  to  tell. 
Cho.  Speak  on  !    My  heart  is  bounding  with  new 

fear. 
El.  Look  w^hat  I  have  found  :    this  curl  upon  the 

tomb  ! 
Cho.  Shorn  by  Avhat  man,  or  what  long-kirtled  maid  ? 
El.   No  mystery  there  !    Whoever  sees  may  know. 
Cho.  Old  as  I  am,  youth  must  enlighten  me. 
El.  One  man  alone  could  shear  it  from  his  brow! 
Cho.  They  who  in  blood  should  mourn  for  him  are 

foes. 
El.  Well,  here  is  a  resemblance  not  obscure  ! 

[Holding  the  lock  to  her  own  head. 
Cho.  Tell  us.     What    crisped    locks    wouldst   thou 

compare  ? 
El.  His  and  my  own.     'Tis  a  strong  likeness,  women  I 
Cho.  Can  this,  then,  be  Orestes'  secret  gift  ? 


178-213]       OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  171 

El.  Methinks  I  see  this  curl  upon  his  head. 

Cho.  But  how  should  he  have  ventured  to  come 
hither  ? 

El.  Ay. 
Perchance  he  hath  sent  this  tribute  to  his  sire. 

Cho.  I  find  no  less  occasion  for  my  tears. 
If  on  this  land  he  ne'er  shall  plant  his  foot. 

El.  Yea :    on  my  heart  the  bitter  waves  of  grief 
Strike  hard  :    1  faint,  as  from  a  staggering  blow  ; 
And  from  mine  eyes  a  wintry  flood  comes  down 
Of  drops  that  slake  not  sorrow,  since  I  saw 
This  hair.     Whom  else  in  Argos  can  I  think  of 
With  locks  of  equal  sheen  ?    nor  was  it  shorn 
By  her  that  slew  the  king  ;    mother  to  me 
In  word  ;   but  in  her  mind,  towards  her  own  offspring, 
Her  Heaven-offending  thoughts  have  no  such  name. 
I  may  not  yield  an  absolute  belief 
That  this  fair  offering  came  from  the  head 
Of  my  most  dear  Orestes  :    but  the  hope 
Thrills  through  me.     Ah  !   could  it  but  speak,  and  tell 

me 
Kind  news,  I  were  not  shaken  thus  and  cloven. 
Thinking  two  ways  :    but  either  with  clear  scorn 
1  would  renounce  it,  as  an  enemy's  hair  ; 
Or  being  my  brother's,  it  should  mourn  with  me. 
And  pay  sweet  honours  at  our  father's  tomb. 
I  call  the  gods  to  witness,  for  they  know, 
Amidst  what  troubles  we,  like  mariners. 
Are  toiling  ;    yet,  if  Fate  intend  our  good, 
A  little  seed  may  bear  a  mighty  stem. 
See,  see  !    a  second  proof  !    The  footmarks  here 
Are  like  and  comparable  to  mine  ! — What  else  ? 
"^Vhy,  there  are  two  of  them,  two  printed  forms. 
His  own,  no  doubt  !    and  some  companion's  tread. 
I^Ieasuring  the  heel  and  foot-palm's  pressure,  see  ! 
The  print  accords  with  what  my  steps  have  made. 
— Yet  am  I  pained.     My  heart  is  sore  distraught  ! 
Or.  {coming  forward).  First  tell  the  gods  thy  former 
prayer  is  heard. 
Then  pray  that  all  to  come  be  likewise  good. 


172  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [214-249 

El.  Why  ?  What  hath  Heaven  performed  for  me  but 
now  ? 

Or.  Thou  seest  at  last  whom  long  thou  hast  prayed 
to  see. 

El.  Whom   knowest   thou    that   my   prayers   were 
summoning  ? 

Or.  Orestes'  name  lives  in  thy  mouth.  I  know. 

El.  Thou  saidst  my  praj-er  was  heard.   What  couldst 
thou  mean  ? 

Or.  I  am  the  man.     Look  not  for  one  more  dear. 

El.  O  stranger,  art  thou  weaving  me  some  guile  ? 

Or.  If  so,  I  weave  a  snare  for  my  own  feet. 

El.  Nay,  thou' It  make  mockery  of  my  miseries. 

Or.   I  mock  mine  own,  if  I  mock  thine  at  all. 

El.  Shall  I,  in  very  truth,  call  thee  Orestes  ? 

Or.  You  see  myself,  and  find  it  hard  to  know  me. 
Yet  when  you  spied  yon  severed  mourning  hair. 
And  keenly  tracked  my  footsteps,  your  fond  heart 
Was  lifted  to  believe  you  saw  my  shape. 
Set  close  that  curl  to  this  my  head,  and,  look  ! 
The  place  receives  it.     'Tis  thy  brother's  hair. 
And  see  this  robe  which  thine  own  hand  once  made. 
The  firm  woof  and  the  broidered  figures  here  ! 
— Nay,  be  not  lost  in  gladness  !    Curb  thy  heart ; 
We  know,  our  nearest  friends  are  dangerous  foes. 

El.  Centre  of  fondness  in  thy  father's  hall, 
Tear-watered  hope  of  blessings  yet  to  be. 
Faith  in  thy  might  shall  win  thee  back  thy  home  ! 
Oh  how  I  joy  beholding  thee  !    Thou  hast 
Four  parts  in  my  desires,  not  one  alone. 
I  call  thee  Father :    and  my  mother's  claim 
Falls  to  thy  side,  since  utter  hate  is  hers. 
And  my  poor  butchered  sister's  share  is  thine. 
And  I  adore  thee  as  my  own  true  brother. 
But  oh  !    may  holy  Right  and  Victory, 
And  highest  Zeus,  the  Saviour,  speed  thee  too  ! 

Or.  Zeus  !    Zeus  !    be  thou  beholder  of  this  act ! 
Look  down  upon  thine  eagle's  orphan  brood 
Whose  sire  was  strangled  in  the  twisted  coils 
Of  the  fell  serpent. — They  in  orphanhood 


250-285]       OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  173 

Famish  with  hunger:    for  their  youthful  wing 

Bears  not  to  the  eyrie  the  paternal  prey. 

Even  so  we  twain  this  day,  I  and  Electra, 

Stand  in  thy  sight  bereaved  and  fatherless, 

Both  alike  banished  from  the  rights  of  home. 

But  if  these  nestlings  of  a  pious  sire, 

Who  made  thy  glory  great  with  sacrifices, 

Be  left  by  thee  to  perish,  whence  again 

Shalt  thou  be  feasted  with  so  full  a  hand  ? 

As,  if  thou  let  thine  eagle's  offspring  die. 

The  tokens  that  revive  men's  faith,  would  fail ; 

So,  if  thou  leave  to  wither  this  proud  stem 

Of  topmost  sovereignty,  thine  altar's  crown 

Shall  miss  much  blood  when  bulls  are  slaughtered. 

Care  for  us,  and  a  mighty  house  will  rise 

From  this  low  state  of  ruined  majesty. 

Cho.  Children,  redeemers  of  your  father's  hearth. 
Speak  softly,  dear  ones,  lest  your  words  be  known, 
Ajid  some  with  idle  tongue  report  all  this 
To  those  now  ruling.     Whom  may  I  erelong 
See  dead  amid  dark  wreaths  of  blackening  fire  ! 
Or.  We  shall  not  fail :    Apollo's  mighty  word 
WiU  be  performed,  that  bade  me  stem  this  peril. 
High  rose  that  sovran  voice,  and  clearly  spake 
Of  stormy  curses  that  should  freeze  my  blood. 
Should  I  not  wreak  my  father's  wrongful  death. 
He  bade  me  pay  them  back  the  self-same  deed 
Maddened  by  loss  of  all :    yea,  mine  own  soul 
Should  know  much  bitterness,  were  this  not  done. 
For,  so  he  prophesied,  this  land  should  yield 
Such  produce  as  should  gladden  every  foe  ; 
Whilst  on  us  twain  diseases  should  ascend. 
Cankering  our  flesh  with  cruel  sores  all  over. 
Devouring  what  was  comely,  till  grey  hairs 
Should  find  us,  blasted  -with  such  misery. 
And  other  onsets  of  the  Erinys-power 
He  said  should  follow  from  my  father's  death 
If  unavenged  by  me. — For  one  so  slain 
Sees  clearly,  though  his  brows  in  darkness  move  ! — 
The  darkling  arrow  of  the  dead,  that  flies 


174  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [2S6-335 

From  kindred  souls  abominably  slain, 
And  madness  and  vain  terror  of  the  mind 
Should  harass  and  unman  me,  till  the  State 
Should  drive  me  forth,  with  brands  upon  my  body. 
So  vexed,  so  banished,  I  should  have  no  share 
Of  vrine  or  dear  libation,  but,  vmseen, 
My  father's  wrath  should  drive  me  from  all  altars. 
None  should  receive  me  :  none  should  dwell  with  me; 
And  my  long  friendless  life,  bereft  of  honours. 
Should  shrivel  down  to  darkness  and  decay. 
And  was  not  this  a  word  to  be  obeyed  ? 
Yea,  were  it  not,  the  deed  must  yet  be  done- 
Many  desires  are  joined  in  one  strong  will, — 
The  heavenly  oracle  ;    my  heart's  deep  grief 
For  my  dead  father  ;    yea,  the  stings  of  want. 
Press  all  one  way,  forbidding  that  a  race 
The  most  reno\\'Tied  on  earth,  whose  dauntless  spirit 
Razed  the  proud  towers  of  Troy, — these  Argive  men — 
Should  be  the  vassals  of  a  brace  of  women. 
Is  he  not  woman-souled  ?    This  day  shall  prove. 

[Orestes  and  Electra  draw  nearer  to  the  grave. 
Cho.  O  mighty  Fates,  let  Heaven's  high  sovereign  send 
The  event  that  Justice  chooseth  for  her  end  ! 
She  cries  aloud,  requiring  paymeni  du-e, 
'  The  bitter  tongue  through  bitter  speech  shall  rue, 
Let  bloody  stroke  for  bloody  stroke  be  law. 
The  doer  must  suffer.'     'Tis  a  world-old  saw. 

Or.  Father,  no  word  of  mine,  no  deed,  may  bring  1 1 
Light  to  the  darkness  where  thou  liest  below  = — 
Yet  shall  the  dirge  lament  thy  matchless  woe. 
And  grace  the  tomb  of  Argos'  noblest  king. 

Cko    Dear  youth,  the  spirit  of  the  dead  survives 
The  ravening  Hame  :    his  ^^Tath  long  after  lives. 
His  dying  groan  is  answered  from  afar 
By  fierce  avengers  arming  them  for  war. 
When  the  sire  falls,  true  grief  is  vastly  stirred : 
Shrinks  from  no  toil ;    is  from  no  task  deterred. 

El.  Hear  me,  too,  father,  mourning  in  my  turn  ;   I  2 
Both  thine  afSicted  ones  toward  thee  yearn. 


i36-374]       01^  LIBATION-BEARERS  175 

Both  outcast,  both  sad  suppliants  at  thy  tomb. 
What  da^vn  may  pierce  this  overwhelming  gloom  ? 

Cho.  Ay,  but  even  yet  may  Heaven  to  yonder  hall 
Glad  voices  of  far  differing  tone  recall. 
So  He  but  will,  funereal  notes  shall  end, 
And  hymns  of  happy  triumph  shall  attend 
The  fresh  home-coming  of  the  royal  friend. 

Oe.  Would  that  some  Lykian  hand,  II  1 

Father,  had  pierced  thee  in  the  Trojan  land  ! 
Then,  leaving  glory  to  thy  home. 
Laying  in  store  for  years  to  come 
Bright  example  for  thy  seed. 
Full  of  deep  strength  for  all  their  need, 
Thou  hadst  died  before  the  wall ; 
And  thy  body  there  had  found 
Rest  beneath  a  lofty  mound. 
Lightly  recked  of  in  thy  hall ! 
Cho.  Dear  to  great  souls  that  there  encountered 

Death, 
Worshipped  and  glorious  on  thy  darkling  throne, 
Chief  in  the  train  of  mighty  powers  beneath. 

Thou  shouldst  have  held  the  place  thou  here  hadst 
known. 
For  in  thy  time  on  earth  thou  wast  a  king. 
With  sceptred  arm  all  spirits  vanquishing. 

El.  Not  by  Scamander's  ford,  11  2 

Amidst  the  crowd  that  perished  by  the  sword, 
Shouldst  thou  be  buried,  O  my  sire  ! 
Nay,  rather  doth  my  heart  require 
Thy  murderers  had  found  that  bier, 
A  far-off  tale  for  us  to  hear, 
As  of  battles  long  ago. 
Listening  to  some  tuneful  tongue 
With  a  heart  by  grief  unwrung. 
Free  from  all  this  weight  of  woe. 
Cho.  Daughter,  thou  tell'st,  for  thou  hast  power  of 
speech. 
Of  fortune  above  gold,  beyond  the  reach 


1 7a  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [374-406 

Of  men  most  blest,  in  climes  that  poets  know. 
Meanwhile  descends  this  twofold  lash  of  woe. 
With  harsh  reverberation  :    Help  is  there  ! 

[Pointing  to  the  tomb. 
Buried  beneath  ;    and  yonder  hateful  pair 

[Pointing  to  the  falace. 
Usurp  it  o'er  your  hall  with  hands  impure. 
The  living  have  the  hardest  lot  to  endure  ! 

Oe.  That,  like  a  dart.  III  1 

Pierces  with  maddening  smart ! 
Zeus,  thou  that  sendest  from  below 
The  late-arriving  woe. 
Thy  vengeance  falls  on  every  hardened  heart, 
Nor  shall  a  parent's  name  prevent  the  blow. 

Cuo.  May  it  be  mine  to  shriek  with  shouts  of  joy 
O'er  her  and  him,  when  mighty  strokes  destroy 
The  lives  of  both. 

Yea,  wherefore  should  I  hide 
WTiat  in  my  fluttering  breast  must  still  abide. 
The  settled  hate,  that,  like  an  adverse  gale. 
Makes   rough    my   spirit's   voyage   with   thoughts   of 
bale  ? 

El.  When  shall  the  arm  III  2 

Of  Zeus,  who  shields  from  harm 
The  saplings  round  the  prostrate  oak, 
Fall  with  skull-sundering  stroke  ? 
Our  rights  against  the  unrighteous  we  demand. 
Hear,  buried  powers  !    Bo  faithful  to  j^our  land. 

Clio.  'Tis  ever  seen,  the  homicidal  Hood. 
Poured  on  earth's   breast,  provokes  new   streams   of 

blood. 
Destruction  calls  the  Fury  from  her  lair 
With  woe  on  woe,  despair  upon  despair. 
That  breathes  from  men  once  slain,  to  plague  the  slayer. 

Ob.  Where  is  your  power  to  save,  IV"  I 

Lords  of  the  grave  ? 
O  curse,  of  endless  might. 
From  lips  long  lost  to  light, 


406-44O]       OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  177 

We,  last  of  Atreus'  race. 
Implore  thy  dreadful  grace. 
Reft  of  our  halls,  and  outlawed  from  our  right. 
Zeus,  whither  should  we  turn  ? 
Cho.  Again  ye  make  my  changeful  heart  to  yearn 
Listening  your  plaintive  cry.     One  while  I  feel 
My  soul  with  dark  misgiving  shake  and  reel, 
But  by-and-by,  the  clouds  are  rolled  away, 
And  courage  heightens  with  new  hopes  of  day. 

El.  How  shall  we  word  it  well  ?  IV  2 

What  horrors  tell  ? 

What  but  the  grief  and  harm 

W^rought  by  our  mother's  arm  ? 

What  magic  tongue  so  smooth 

That  rancorous  wound  may  soothe  ? 
Ye  may  fondle  the  wolf  from  the  fold, 
Ere  by  our  mother's  voice  this  rage  shall  be  controlled. 

Cho.     Like  the  Persian  mourner  I  V 

Added  the  hand-stroke  to  my  cry. 
Up  and  down  upon  my  breast 
Clenching  fingers  without  rest. 
Scattering  bruises  round  and  round. 
Till  my  poor  head  rang  dizzy  with  the  sound  ! 
El.   O  mother  !    O  enemy  !    O  hard  soul  ! 
Like  a  foe,  unhonoured  by  funeral  bowl. 
Though  a  prince,  unfollowed  by  mean  or  high. 
Thou  didst  bury  thy  husband  without  one  sigh  ! 
Ob.  Ah  !    ah  !    Every  word  there  hath  stung. 
But  shall  she  not  pay 
For  each  shame  she  then  flung 

On  my  sire  ? 
Heaven  and  this  arm  to-day 

Are  mighty  with  one  desire. 
Let  me  sweep  them  off  from  the  earth, — then  I,  too, 
would  pass  away  ! 
Cho.  Yet  more  ;    he  was  hacked,  be  thou  'ware  ! 
And  as  she  had  slain 
So  she  buried  him  there 
In  his  blood, 


178  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [441-478 

Minded  to  store  much  pain 
To  o'ertake  thy  hfe  in  a  flood. 
I  tell  thee  the  shames  thou  dost  bear  from  thy  sire.     Do 
I  speak  them  plain  ? 

El.  Thou  hear'st  our  father's  death.      But  I  was 
driven  VI 

To  grieve  apart  beneath  the  dews  of  heaven  ; 
Chased  from  the  chambers  like  a  thievish  hound. 
To  pour  my  grief  in  tears  upon  the  ground. 
They  came  more  readily  than  smiles.     We  stole 
Dark  hours  for  sorrow.     Write  this  in  thy  soul. 

Cho.  Let  quiet  movement  of  thy  thought  engrain 
These  hated  truths  upon  thy  heart  and  brain : 

Part  thou  hast  heard :    press  on,  to  learn  what  lies 
concealed. 

So  with  un bated  force  thou  shalt  assay  the  field. 

Or.  Father,  assist  thy  children  in  their  deed  ! 

El.  Thy  daughter's  tears  implore  thee  in  deep  need  ! 

Cno.  And  we  with  both  in  steadfast  harmony 
Bid  thee  come  forth  to  light  and  hear  their  cry. 
Join  this  attempt  against  thine  enemy  ! 

Or.  The  cause  is  set.     The  battle  doth  begin  ! 

£l.  O  Gods,  be  just ;  and  make  the  righteous  win  ! 

1.  Clio.  These  prayers  have  thrilled  me  with  their 

resolute  sound. 
Long  since  the  doom  lies  waiting  underground  : 
Now  shall  it  come,  with  desolating  bound. 

2.  Cho.  Harsh  toil  imposed  by  Ate  on  this  race  ? 
Unskilful  stroke,  vexing  a  tuneless  place  ! 
Intolerable  sense  of  boundless  grief  ! 

Groans  without  end  !    Sorrows  with  no  relief  ! 

3.  Cuo.  As  hnt  within  the  sore,  so  for  this  wound 
The  remedies  within  the  house  are  found. 

Not  others  out  of  doors, — yourselves  must  end 
The  strife,  and  with  the  murderous  foe  contend. 

Leader  of  Cho.  So  far,  our  prayer  to  gods  beneath 
the  ground. 

Cho.  Oh  listen,  blessed  ones  below  !    Give  grace 
And  glory  to  these  children  of  your  race  ! 


479-511]       OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  179 

Or.  My  father,  king  in  all  but  in  thy  death, 
I  pray  for  power  to  rule  thine  ancient  hall. 

El.  I  too,  my  father,  with  a  daughter's  voice. 
Pray  thee  for  power  to  work  Aegisthus  woe. 

Ob.  So  men  shall  honour  thee  with  sacrifice 
And  righteous  banquets  ;    else  the  savoury  smoke 
That  steams  on  earth  for  souls  more  fortunate. 
Shall  leave  thee  comfortless. 

El.  And  I  will  bring 

Choice  offerings  from  all  my  patrimony 
In  day  of  marriage,  and  will  honour  first 
My  father's  tomb  from  the  paternal  hall. 

Or.  Earth,  loose  my  father  to  o'erlook  the  strife  ! 

El.  Crown  all,  Persephone,  with  fair  success  : 

Or.  They   took  thee  in  the  bath ;    father,    forget 
not ! 

El.  Think  how  the  net  was  first  arranged  for  thee. 

Or.  \\Tien  thou  wast  caught  in  fetters  not  of  brass. 

El.  Yea,  in  a  covering  shamefully  contrived  ! 

Or.  Stirs  not  thy  soul  at  these  reproaches,  sire  ? 

El.   Doth  thy  dear  head  not  rise  erect  in  wrath  ? 

Ok.  Either  send  Justice  fighting  on  our  side. 
If  thou  wouldst  gain  requital  for  thy  fall. 
Or  grant  us  to  catch  them  as  they  caught  thee. 

El.  Hear  this  last  cry,  mj''  father  !    Look  with  pity 
On  these  thy  young  ones  sitting  at  thy  grave, 
And  feel  for  both,  the  maiden  and  the  man. 

Or.  Wipe  not  away  this  seed  of  Pelops'  stock. 
While  this  remains,  thou  hvest,  even  though  dead. 

El.  For  children  save  the  dead  man's  name  from 
darkness, 
Like  corks,  that  lead  along  the  fishing-net. 
Else  in  the  deep  the  flaxen  lines  were  lost. 

(  Hear  us  ;   this  mourning  we  pour  forth 

Ob.  and  El.  )  for  thee. 

together.  \  Respect  it,  and  thou  honourest  thine 
'  own  cause. 

Cho.  Unblamed,  however  long,  has  been  your  strain 
Chanted  to  honour  this  unwailed-for  bier. 


180  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [512-547 

(To  Or.)  Now,  since  thy  heart  is  tuned  up  to  the  height. 
Act,  and  make  trial  of  your  destiny. 

Ok.  Yes.     But  one  question  points  me  to  my  port. 
What   made  her   send   those   offerings  ?     ^\'hat   late 

thought 
Bade  her  shed  grace  o'er  wrongs  without  recall  ? 
Cold  honours,  yielded  to  the  senseless  dead 
In  wretched  guise  !    I  know  not  by  what  words 
To  stamp  them,  but  they  cover  not  her  sin  ! 
No  draughts,  how  rich  soe'er,  can  match  one.  drop 
Of  blood.     In  vain  such  labour  !     All  is  said. 
But  if  thou  know'st  the  thing  I  ask,  content  me. 
Cho.  I  know,  dear  youth,  for  we  were  there.     A 
dream 
And  terror  of  the  night,  that  vexed  and  shook  her. 
Drove  to  this  rite  her  sin-perturbed  mind. 

Or.  Say  then,  have  ye  clear  knowledge  of  the  vision  ? 
Cho.  She  said  she  bare  a  serpent  in  her  dream. 
Or.  Did  all  end  so  ?  Or  whither  turns  the  tale  ? 
Cho.  It  woke  up  like  a  child  in  swaddling-bands. 
Or.  In  hunger,  the  young  dragon  !  for  what  food  ? 
Cho.  She  held  her  breast  to  appease  it  in  her  dream. 
Or.  How  'scaped  her  teat  the  wounding  of  its  tooth  ? 
Cho.  Nay,  it  drew  blood  thence  with  the  woman's 

milk. 
Or.  This  vision  cannot  vanish  unfulfilled. 
Cho.  Startled  from  sleep,  she  woke  the  house  with 
cries. 
And  many  blazing  torches,  night  had  quenched. 
Renewed  last  evening's  splendours  for  their  queen. 
Then  sped  she  forth  this  funeral  drink-oHering, 
Late  hope,  to  heal  a  mortifying  sore  ! 

Or.  Land  of  my  sires,  and  thou,  my  father's  tomb. 
May  this  fair  vision  be  fulfilled  in  me  ! 
Surely  this  reading  fits,  and  shows  no  flaw  ? 
If,  slipt  from  the  same  place  from  whence  I  sprang. 
The  serpent,  swaddled  on  my  mother's  lap. 
Showed  fight,  and  gaped  upon  the  teat  that  fed  me. 
Curdling  the  kindly  milk  with  clots  of  gore. 
That  she  cried  out  in  terror  of  such  pain. 


548-584]      OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  181 

'Tis  fated,  since  she  nursed  a  monstrous  thing. 
She  die  a  bloody  death,  and  I,  grown  up 
To  dragon-hood,  must  slay  her :  so  this  dream 
Declares.     Be  ye  the  seers  to  test  my  judgement. 

Cho.  So  be  it !  say  we.     Proceed ;  we  share  thy 
counsel. 

Ob.  Few  words  suffice.     Electra  goes  within : 
We  {'pointing  to  Pylades)  follow  our  intent.     And  you, 

I  charge  ye. 
Do  nothing :  but  preserve  in  secrecy 
These  plans,  by  me  so  ordered,  that  by  guile. 
Even  as  by  guile  they  slew  that  princely  man. 
They  may  die,  tangled  in  the  self-same  snare. 
For  so  Apollo,  to  this  hour  unshamed 
By  prophecies  unverified,  prescribed. 
I,  like  a  stranger,  in  well-chosen  garb, 
With  Pylades  my  friend  here,  will  appear 
Before  the  courtyard  gate,  as  a  known  warrior 
Accepted  by  the  house :  and  we  will  speak 
Framing  our  tongues  like  Phocian  mountaineers. 
Well ;  in  a  house  oppressed  with  heaven-sent  sorrow, 
None  will  receive  us  at  the  door  with  smiles. 
So  we  shall  stand  there,  till  one  pass  and  say, 
With  dim  conjecture  of  some  accident, 
'  Why  keep  ye  suppliants  tarrying  at  the  gate. 
If  that  Aegisthus,  though  from  home,  have  heard  ? ' 
Then,  cross  I  but  the  threshold  of  the  court. 
Or  should  he  come  in  afterward  and  stand 
Before  my  gaze,  ere  he  have  asked  '  Whence  come  ye  ?  ' 
He  falls,  caught  swiftly  on  my  point  of  steel. 

[A   pause,   in  which  he  seems  to  he  pondering 
something  deeply 
At^,  nought  scanted  of  her  rights,  shall  drain 
A  third  deep  draught  of  harshly  tempered  death  ! 
Thou  then,  my  sister,  watch  the  house  with  care. 
That  this  emprise  may  have  a  flawless  issue  ; 
And  ye,  I  pray  you,  keep  a  cautious  tongue. 
That  knows  the  time  for  speech  and  prudent  silence. 
The  rest  I  leave  to  Hermes,  who  has  brought  me 
Thus  far,  and  will  direct  my  venturous  sword      [Exeunt 


182  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [585-626 

Chorus. 
All-bounteous  earth  I  1 

Rears  many  a  monstrous  birth 
Too  terrible,  too  sad  for  human  ear , 
And  'mid  the  depths  of  land-embracing  Sea 
Lurk  mjTiad  forms  of  hostile  fear  ; 
Yea,   and  'twixt  heaven   and  earth   meteors  malign 

appear : 
And  beast  and  bird,  and  wind  and  storm,  can  wild  and 
wasteful  be. 

But  who  may  scan  2  2 

The  all-daring  spirit  of  man 
And  woman,  when  her  heart  is  petrified  ? 
WTio  shall  express  how  passion  linked  to  pride 
Leads  from  dark  lust  to  hateful  crime, 
And  from  the  female's  wrongful  sway,  madly  prevails 

in  time 
O'er  married  peace  and  household  joys ;    and  ravina 
far  and  wide  ? 

Be  witness  else,  whoso  is  not  unwise,  II  1 

What  Clotho  taught  Althaea  to  devise, 

Through  fire  to  slay  her  son  ! 

She  burnt  to  its  last  ash  the  blackened  brand. 

That  tallied  with  his  life,  so  fate  had  planned. 

From  his  first  cry,  long  as  his  days  should  run. 

Hate  we  next  cruel  Scylla,  that,  o'erswayed        II  2 
By  Cretan  !JIinos'  gift,  her  sire  betrayed  ! 

She  dipt  from  Nisus'  head 
The  lock  of  deathless  life  (since  he  who  brought 
That  gilded  snare,  bereft  her  soul  of  thought), 
Wretcli  ;  while  he  slept  ! — He  joined  the  shadowy  dead. 

^liat  trooping  horrors  haunt  my  thoughtful  mind  ? 

ill  1 
Home-troubles  by  the  loveless  wife  designed 
Against  her  warrior  lord  ! 
Ill-seasoned  craft  of  woman-kind, 
By  loyal  hearts  abhorred  ! 


677-660]      OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  183 

Let  not  woman  rule  my  hearth. 
But  the  man  of  martial  worth, 
Awing  subjects  with  his  nod. 
To  his  foes — an  angry  god  ! 
Let  not  woman's  passion  rise. 
Spreading  bale-fire  from  her  eyes  ! 

What  strain  of  grief  out-peers  the  Lemnian  tale,       III  2 
Where  pity  strives  o'er  terror  to  prevail  ? 
Men  since  in  every  time 
Telling  the  last  assault  of  bale. 
Point  to  the  Lemnian  crime. 
Story  thus  on  story  grows 
To  the  dark  and  shameful  close  ; 
Heaven-condemned,  the  race  of  man 
Withers  'neath  the  eternal  ban. 
Plants  whereon  a  god  hath  frowned 
Live  not  long  to  choke  the  ground. 

The  sword  of  Justice  held  before  the  breast  IV  1 

Is  ready  to  strike  deep :  nor  gives  she  rest 
To  such  as  lightly  trample  o'er  their  crime 
As  though  its  trace  must  vanish  in  good  time. 

They  scorn  her,  but  her  pillars  firmly  stand  :        IV  2 
Her  blade  is  forged  by  Fate's  unfailing  hand. 
And  the  slow  Fury,  fathomless  of  heart. 
Brings  to  the  house  her  child  to  do  his  part, 
Winning  late  glory  with  fresh-bleeding  brand. 

The  scene  changes  to  before  the  palace.     Enter  Okestes. 

Or.  Ho  there  !  Attend  this  knocking  at  your  gate  ' 
Sirrah  !  (knocks.)  Again  !  Who  is  at  home  ?  I  say  \ 
{Knocks  again.)  Once  more  I  summon  Prince  Aegisthua 

forth. 
If  these  be  not  inhospitable  halls. 

PoETER  {within).  1  hear  !     Whence  come  ye  ?     Tell. 
What  countrymen  ? 

Or.  Announce  to  those  who  rule  this  palace-hall, 
I  bring  them  news  significant  and  strange. 
And  be  not  slow  in  this  ;  for  night's  dark  wain 


184  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [661-695 

Draws  near  apace,  and  travellers  prepare 
To  anchor  in  some  hospitable  hold. 
Let  some  one  with  authority  come  forth, 
Woman  if  need  be,  though  a  man  were  better. 
For  bashful  converse  never  can  be  clear. 
But  man  speaks  fearlessly  to  man,  and  shows 
Credentials  unmistakable  and  sure. 

Enter  Clytemnestra. 

Cly.  Sirs,  is  there  aught  ye  would  ?     Speak  then. 
For  we 
Lack  naught  befitting  such  a  house  as  this. 
Warm  bath,  nor  bed  for  wearied  limbs,  nor  fair 
Attendance  unobtrusive  and  discreet. 
But  if  your  business  be  of  graver  charge. 
That  is  men's  duty.     They  shall  hear  of  it. 

Or.  I  come  to  Argos  from  the  Phocian  land  ; 
Daulis  my  native  city.     As  I  came. 
This  way  directing  my  self-marshalled  route. 
Carrying  no  burden  but  my  clothes,  a  man. 
An  utter  stranger  to  me,  crossed  my  path. 
When  each  had  told  the  other  of  his  way 
(And  in  this  interchange  his  name  came  out, 
Stropliius  of  Phocis),  he  proceeded  thus  : 
*  Since  Argos  is  your  destination,  sir. 
Bear  this  in  mind,  I  pray  you,  without  fail. 
To  tell  his  friends,  Orestes  is  no  more. 
And  we  would  know  of  them,  whether  they  choose 
To  fetch  him  home,  or  in  strange  land  to  leave  him, 
Forever  aliened  and  disfranchised. 
Be  thou  the  bearer  of  their  message  back. 
For  as  it  is,  the  warrior's  calcined  bones 
Well-mourned,  are  covered  in  a  brazen  urn.' 
I  give  the  news  I  heard  {looking  hard  at  Clytemnestea): 

but  I  feel  doubtful 
If  I  have  told  them  to  the  proper  ear. 
The  dead  man's  parents  first  of  all  should  know. 

Cly.  Ah  mo  !  what  ruin  clamours  in  this  news  I 
O  ill-averted  curse  upon  this  house. 
How  like  a  kite  thou  hast  descried  our  lamb. 


696-729]       OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  185 

How  like  an  archer  pierced  him  from  afar. 
When  seeming  laid  within  a  peaceful  fold  ! 
Orestes,  whom  we  thought  withdrawn  from  ill. 
With  free  foot  rescued  from  the  slippery  slime, 
Dies,  and  bereaves  me  in  my  wretchedness  1 
One  hope  remained,  to  heal  the  revel-rout 
Of  furies  in  our  hall.     You  bring  it  home 
And,  in  the  act,  for  ever  cancel  it. 

Ob.  So  kindly  welcomed  by  such  wealthy  friends, 
I  could  have  wished  to  earn  my  entertainment 
By  some  glad  news  ;  for  courtesy  breeds  kindness. 
But  still  my  heart  declared  'twere  impious. 
With  such  affairs  in  hand,  not  to  complete  them 
For  him  who  asked  and  you  who  entertain  me. 

Cly.  Your  worth  shall  not  be  poorer  in  reward, 
Nor  shall  you  know  less  friendship  in  this  house. 
Some  other  might  have  carried  the  same  news. 
Come,  'tis  the  hour  when  friends  who  all  day  long 
Have  travelled  from  afar,  should  have  kind  shelter. 
Lead  him,  and  this  his  fellow-voyager. 
To  the  best-furnished  men's  apartment  there. 
And   let  them  have  good  tendance.     Come,  dispatch  I 
Do  this,  as  you  shall  fear  our  sharp  rebuke  ! 
And  we  meanwhile  shall  make  this  matter  known 
Unto  our  lord,  and  with  good  friends  to  aid  us. 
Will  study  how  to  answer  this  grave  need.      [Exeunt 
Cho,     Handmaids  of  the  royal  dwelling, 

Is't  not  time  our  notes  were  swelling 
For  Orestes'  princely  might 
Entering  now  the  dubious  fight  ? 
Hear,  O  Earth  !     O  holy  hill ! 
Where  the  body  /ieth  still 
Of  his  sire  that  ruled  the  fleet. 
Hear,  and  send  him  helpers  meet ! 
Cunning  leads  his  crafty  tread 
(This  the  hour,  the  moment  dread  !) 
Darkling  Hermes'  whispered  word 
Guards  and  guides  the  fateful  sword. 


186  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [730-766 

Enter  Nurse. 
It  seems  the  stranger's  visit  makes  some  sorrow. 
For,  look,  Orestes'  nurse  comes  this  way  weeping  ! 
Kilissa,  what  hath  drawn  thee  to  the  gate 
With  unfeecl  mourning  thus  accompanied  ? 

Nurse.  The  queen  desired  me  summon  to  the  hall 
Aegisthus  with  all  speed,  to  hear  the  strangers 
Speak  with  men's  voice  their  tidings  to  a  man. 
Amongst  us  servants  she  would  not  let  peer 
The  gfadness  that  was  gathering  in  her  eye. 
But  gloomed  with  sullen  brow,  though  well  we  knew 
Her  triumph  at  what  ruins  all  the  house, 
These  news  the  stranger-men  have  told  too  clearly. 
Ay,  sure  the  master's  ears  will  gladden  him 
As  he  drinks  in  this  word  !     O  me  unhappy  ! 
How  many  a  sorrow  in  this  house  of  Atreus, 
Heaped  on  old  woes,  hath  racked  my  breast  with  sobs  I 
But  never  yet  felt  I  a  stroke  like  this. 
The  rest  I  drained,  however  wofully. 
And  found  the  bottom.     But,  ah  me,  Orestes, 
That  wore  my  heart  out !     From  the  womb  I  took  him, 
At  that  great  voice  that  shook  me  out  of  bed. 
And  nursed  him  on  and  on.     How  many  a  time 
Have  I  had  trouble  with  him,  sore,  and  bootless  ! 
The  unconscious  infant,  like  a  tender  calf, 
Must  be  looked  after,  mind  you  !     For  it  knows  not, 
While  yet  i'  the  swathing-clouts,  to  tell  its  trouble. 
Whether  thirst,  or  hunger,  or  more  clamant  need 
O'ercome  it.     The  young  belly  keeps  not  hours  ! 
A  prophet  of  all  this  (sometimes  a  false  one 
To  mine  and  swaddling-bands'  confusion  !)  I, 
Washer  and  dresser  both  of  babe  and  babe-clothes, 
Waa  nurse,  cook,  washerwoman,  all  in  one. 
Plying  these  various  trades,  mistress  in  all, 
I  reared  Orestes  by  his  father's  will. 
And  now  they  tell  me  he  is  dead  !     Woe  's  me  I 
And  I  must  go  to  him  who  has  destroyed 
Our  peace  !     Ay,  gladly  will  he  hear  my  tale  ! 

Cno.  With  what  attendance  doth  she  bid  him  come  T 


767-799]      OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  187 

NxJKSE.     How  ?     Let  me  understand  you.     Speak 

again. 
Cho.  I  mean  whether  alone  or  with  his  guards. 
Nurse.  She  bids  him  bring  the  spearmen  of  his  train. 
Cho.  Take  no  such  message  to  your  hated  lord. 
But,  leaving  majesty  and  fear  behind. 
In  his  own  person  bid  him  come  and  hear. 
Go,  bear  this  mandate  with  a  hghtsome  mind. 
Wise  messengers  make  good  the  unspoken  word. 
NuBSE.  But  are  ye  sure  ye  have  reason  for  such 

mandate  ? 
Cho.  What  if  Zeus  turn  at  length  the  tide  of  woe  ? 
Nurse.  How  can  that  be  ?     Orestes  was  our  hope. 
And  he  is  gone  !  [She  weeps 

Cho.  Art  thou  advised  of  that  ? 

A  sorry  prophet  may  enlighten  thee. 

Nurse.  What  ?     Have  ye  heard  some  counterblast 

of  tidings  ? 
Cho.  Speed  thou  thy  message.     Do  what  we  enjoin 
thee. 
And  leave  the  gods  to  compass  their  great  will. 

[Exit  Nurse 

Chorus. 

Father  of  gods  who  hold  Olympus'  height,  I 

Grant  me  this  prayer,  neither  for  wealth  nor  might. 

But  for  that  lot  which  virtue  longs  to  see  ! 

Such  word  is  pure  from  all  iniquity. 

Zeus,  the  performance  waiteth  still  with  thee  I 

But  set  thou  up  on  high 

Above  his  enemy. 
Him  who  now  moves  beneath  yon  roof-tree's  shade. 

If  thou  wilt  make  him  great, 

And  grant  him  lofty  state. 
Three  and  four  fold  thy  gift  shall  be  repaid. 

The  orphan  of  thy  friend 
Is  harnessed  to  a  car  of  grief  and  pain : 

Oh  that  such  course  might  end. 
And  his  triumphant  tramp  resound  upon  the  plain ! 


188  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [800-833 

{To  the  Household  Gods.) 

Ye  that  around  the  hearth,  II 

Far  from  the  touch  of  dearth. 
One  heart  of  tranquil  mirth. 

Gaze  from  the  wall. 
May  that  ill  deed  of  yore 
Find  his  last  meed  of  gore  ! 
Let  aged  strife  no  more 
Breed  in  the  hall  ! 
{To  Apollo.) 

And  thou  whose  Pythian  haunt 
Shines  fair  and  lofty,  grant 
Our  hero's  house  may  rise  with  freedom  bright. 
Rend  thou  the  darksome  veil 
That  keeps  his  glory  pale  ; 
Make  his  dear  eyes  behold  thy  glorious  light  I 
{To  Hermes.) 

And  let  fair  Maia's  boy, 
Helper  of  all  our  joy. 
Whom  secret  wiles  employ, 

Speed  this  emprise. 
Bring  what  is  hid  to  light. 
Hiding  his  act  from  sight. 
Shrouding  by  day  and  night 
His  wary  eyes. 

Then  we  will  open  to  the  hearts  of  all 

The  riches  that  return  to  bless  our  hall  ; 

Soft  breeze,  that  heralds  Spring's  glad  festival  1 

The  dead  we  shall  lament  with  shrilling  strain. 

But  that  which  we  lament  to  me  is  gain. 

And  from  my  friends  removes  dark  hours  of  bane. 

{To  Orestes  within.)     Thou,  when  thy  time  is  near. 

Shaking  thee  loose  from  fear. 
Shout  o'er  the  filial  deed  thy  father's  name. 

Drowning  her  cries  of  '  Son  ' — 

Until  a  deed  is  done. 
Of  heartache  full,  but  unalloyed  with  blame. 
Taking  the  heart  of  Perseus  in  thy  breast, 
For  friends  on  earth,  and  those  beneath  at  rest. 


834-868]       OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  189 

Work  out  the  indulgence  of  sad  wrath,  and  win 
Thy  mournful  triumph,  harbouring  grief  within. 
But  cutting  off  the  murderers  for  their  sin. 

Enter  Aegisthus. 

Aeq.  I  come,  for  I  was  called.    Strange  news,  I  hear, 
Is  brought  us  by  some  foreign  friends,  not  such 
As  one  would  wish  : — Orestes  dead  !     Again, 
This  house,  long  gangrened  with  a  rankling  wound, 
Must  be  new-burdened  with  blood-dripping  death. 
How  shall  I  trace  the  lines  of  truth  in  this  ? 
How  know  that  women's  panic  have  not  painted 
Some  flying  figure  of  a  death  that  vanishes, 
Dying  in  rumour  only  ?     Tell  me  plainly. 

Cho.  We  heard  the  rumour.     But  go  in  and  question 
Your  foreign  friends  themselves.     Report  is  weak, 
Compared  with  face-to-face  intelligence. 

Aeg.  I  fain  would  see  and  ask  the  man  again, 
Whether  he  himself  was  there,  and  saw  him  die. 
Or  speaks  on  hearsay  from  a  dim  report. 
My  mind  has  eyes,  and  will  not  soon  be  hoodwinked. 

[Extl 
Cho.     Whence  shall  I  begin  the  strain  ? 

How,  great  Zeus,  thy  favour  gain  ? 

How  declare  my  kindly  soul 

With  a  voice  of  due  control  ? 

Now  the  blade  distained  before 

With  our  murdered  chieftain's  gore. 

Brought  to  trial,  shall  reveal 

Whether  fate  the  doom  would  seal 

Of  this  house  for  evermore  ; 

Or  the  torch  in  freedom's  name 

For  these  children  shall  proclaim 

Proud  return  to  lordly  power. 

To  their  rich  paternal  dower. 

Orestes  in  the  deadly  close. 
Grapples  alone  with  both  his  foes : 
Relying  on  his  single  might. 
May  victory  lead  him  to  his  right  ! 


190  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [869-898 

Aeg.  (within).  Oh,  oh  !     I  am  slain  ! 

Cho.  Ha  !     Which  way  goes  the  battle  ?    {Another 
cry.)     Ha  1     Again  ? 
Withdraw  we  till  the  deed  is  perfected, 
And  let  us  seem  unwitting  of  this  blow. — 

Enter  Attendant. 

The  strife  is  now  determined.     Who  comes  here  ? 
Attendant.  Woe,    for  our   master !     All  is   over  1 
Woe  ! 
Woe,  yet  again  !     Aegisthus  is  no  more. 
Unbar,  unbar  the  women's  gate  with  speed  t 
Let  young  men  do  it !     Weaklings  will  not  ser^e  ! 
Too  late  for  succour  any  way.     He  is  slain. 
But  do  it !    ho  !     I  say  !     Bestir,  bestir  ! 
What  ?     Is  the  house  asleep  ?     Dumb  walls  receive 
My  bootless  cry  !     WTiere  's  Clytemnestra  ?     \ATiere  ? 
What  doth  she,  when  the  edge  of  righteous  doom 
Hovers  at  hand  to  crash  upon  her  neck  ? 

Enter  Clytemnestra. 

Cly.  \^Tiat  cry  is  here  7     What  dost  thou  by  tho 

gate  ? 
Att.  I  say,  the  dead  have  slain  the  living  there. 
Cly.  Ay  me  1     I  read  thy  riddle  !     Oh,  undone  1 
By  guile,  even  as  we  slew  !     Give  me  an  axe, 
A  strong  one ;  quickly  too  !     I'll  dare  the  issue, 
Be  it  for  me  or  against  me.     I  am  come 
To  the  utterance  in  this  fight  with  Fate  and  Doom. 
[The  dead  body  of  Aegisthus  is  disclosed,  Orestes 
standing  by 
Or.  Thee  now  1  seek.     Aegisthus  hath  enough, 
Cly.  Oh,  thou  art  dead  !     Thy  dear,  great  life  is 

flown  ! 
Or.  Was  he  so  dear  to  thee  ?     Then  thou  shalt  lie 
In  the  same  grave  with  blameless  constancy. 

Cly.  O  son,  forbear  !     O  child,  respect  and  pity 
This  breast,  whereat  thou  often,  soothed  to  slumber, 
Drainedst  with  baby  mouth  tho  bounteous  milk  1 


899-928]      OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  191 

Or.  Counsel  me,  Pylades  !     Shall  mercy  blunt 
My  sword  against  my  mother  ? 

Pyl.  Where  are  then 

Apollo's  prophecies  of  what  should  be, 
His  conjuration  and  clear  oracle  ? 
Hate  all  the  world,  but  be  the  friend  of  Heaven. 

Ok.  Thou  hast  prevailed.     Thy  wisdom  guides  me 
well 
Here  !     I  will  slay  thee  by  the  man  thou  lovest ! 
Thou  didst  account  him  better  than  my  sire 
In  life :  then  in  his  death  thou  shalt  lie  with  him. 
Since  here  thou  hast  loved,  hating  where  love  was  due. 

Cly.  I  nursed  thee :  be  my  comforter  in  age  ! 

Or.  How  should  I  live  with  her  who  killed  my  sire  ? 

Cly.  The   Destinies  wi'ought  there.     My  son,   my 
son  ! 

Or.  Destiny  works  a  different  doom  to-day. 

Cly.  Thy  mother's  curse  !     Doth  that  not  awe  thee, 
boy  ? 

Or.  My  mother  flung  me  forth  a  prey  to  fortune. 

Cly.  I  flung  thee  forth  ?     To  a  friend's  hearth  I 
sent  thee. 

Or.  You  made  base  barter  of  my  freeborn  head. 

Cly.  Where  are  the  gifts  they  gave  me  for  you,  say  ? 

Or.   Where  is  the  gift  ?     'Twere  shame  to  speak  this 
plainly. 

Cly.  You  say  not  how  your  father  stept  aside. 

Or.  Chide  not  the  labourer,  while  you're  housed  at 
home. 

Cly.  Know'st  thou  the  pain  of  a  lorn  woman,  child  ? 

Or.  I  know  she  thrives  by  him  who  toils  abroad. 

Cly.  Oh  !     Wilt  thou  kill  thy  mother  ?     O  my  son  ! 

Or.  I  kill  thee  not.     Thy  sin  destroyeth  thee. 

Cly.  Ha  !     'Ware  thy  mother's  furies.     Guard  thee 
well! 

Or.  How  'scape  I  my  sire's  furies,  if  I  spare  thee  ? 

Cly.  Like  dirges  at  a  grave,  my  voice  is  vain. 

Or.  Yea,  from  his  grave  my  father  breathes  thy  doom- 

Cly.  Ah  ! 
I  have  borne  and  reared  a  serpent  for  my  son. 


192  THE  CHOEPHOROE  [929-965 

Ob.  Tlien  is  fulfilled  the  terror  of  thy  dream  ! 

[Clytemnestra  appears  to  swoon  ;  then  rouse3 
herself  and  looks  defiance  at  Orestes 
Or.  Thy  deed  was  wrongful,  so  shall  be  thy  death. 
[They  are  withdraivn  into  the  palace 
Cno.  Of  this  pair  also  must  I  mourn  the  fall. 
But  since  the  crested  wave  of  boundless  blood 
Buoys  up  Orestes  on  its  crown,  though  sadly, 
I  pray  this  eye  o'  the  house  be  ne'er  put  out. 

Even  Priam's  sons  thou  didst  o'ertake  at  length,     I  1 
O  Nemesis  !  thou  broughtest  down  their  strength. 
Now  Agamemnon's  house  hath  felt  the  hand 
Of  one  with  lion  heart  and  warlike  brand. 
An  unrelenting  Ares,  Heaven  hath  sent 
Through  Phoebus'  oracle  with  fierce  intent. 

Shout !  for  our  master's  house  escapeth  free  I  2 

From  heartless  vice  and  wasting  luxury, 

Wild  courses  of  that  fell  usurping  pair. 

One  came  to  avenge :  dark  craft  he  made  his  care, 

But  in  the  battle  she  herself  took  part, 

Zeus'  daughter,  seated  in  the  avenger's  heart. 

She  guided  his  right  arm  aright :  her  name  II  1 

We  mortals  have  called  Justice.     Who  shall  blame  ? 
She  breathes  upon  her  foes  destroying  wrath. 
Such  issue  the  Parnassian  Lord,  that  hath 
His  caverned  shrine  upon  the  Pythian  height, 
To  banish  guile  brings  guilefullj'  to  light. 

Long  the  house  hath  been  oppressed- 
Now  he  giveth  longed-for  rest. 
Even  Almighty  power  and  will 
Cannot  minister  to  ill. 
Now  to  Heaven  is  worship  due 
Since  light  came  and  darkness  flew. 

Arise,  ye  domes  !     The  cruel  yoke  is  past.  II  2 

Long  have  ye  grovelled.     Be  yourselves  at  last. 
No  more  a  slave  of  servants  shall  I  groan. 
No  more  these  walls  shall  seem  vile  heaps  of  stone  ; 


965-1000]     OR  LIBATION-BEARERS  193 

Put  on  thy  glory,  mansion  !  since  the  power 
Of  Purity  shall  cleanse  thee  from  this  hour. 

Now  whate'er  of  pain  or  sorrow 
Waited  for  a  far  to-morrow, 
Flies  on  leaden  wings  away. 
Night  is  past.     Behold,  the  day  t 

Orestes  is  discovered,  with    the  dead  bodies  of  Aeq. 
and  Cly. 

Or.  Behold  ye  these  usurpers  of  the  land  ! 
This  pair  that  slew  my  sire  and  spoiled  my  home  J 
Then  loftily  they  sate  enthroned,  and  now 
They  still  are  friends,  if  one  may  judge  of  them 
By  what  appears.     They  have  kept  their  oath  and 

pledge.  _ 

Were  they  not  sworn  to  slay  my  sire,  and  die 
Together  ?     See  how  well  they  keep  their  word  ! 
See  also,  ye  whose  ears  attest  this  act. 
This  fell  contrivance  for  my  sire's  defeat, 
How  hands  and  heels  were  fettered  and  conjoined  ! 
Ho  !  stretch  it  forth  :    unfold  it  and  display 
This  man-inveigler,  that  the  Sire  may  see  ; 
I  mean  not  mine,  but  yonder  Sun,  whose  eye 
Surveys  the  world  ; — show  him  my  mother's  crime  I 
That  some  day  he  may  witness  in  my  cause, 
And  prove  my  right  thus  to  have  slain  my  mother. 
Aegisthus  counts  for  nothing.     He  but  pays 
The  adulterer's  forfeit,  as  the  custom  holds. 
But  she,  that  could  contrive  this  horrid  end 
For  him  whose  seed  she  had  borne  beneath  her  zone. 
Burden  once  dear,  though  hostile  now  'tis  proved 
And  bitter, — how  appears  she  to  your  thoughts  7 
Deem  ye  the  touch  of  asp  or  basilisk 
More  certain  to  destroy  and  putrify. 
Yea  though  she  bit  not,  than  her  venomous  will  ? — 
How  shall  I  name  this  with  a  blameless  tongue  7 
Beast's  pitfall  ?  or  the  footcloth  for  a  corpse  ? 
Or  bather's  awning  ?     Nay,  a  hunting  net, 
No  garment,  but  the  limbs'  entanglement. 


194  THE  CHOEPHOROE       [1001-1034 

A  thief  might  throw  such  vesture  o'er  his  prey, 
To  rob  beguiled  travellers  on  their  way  : 
With  this,  much  gold  by  murder  might  he  win. 
Heating  his  heart  with  perilous  fires  of  sin. 
Ere  such  a  consort  harbour  in  my  hall. 
Heaven-blighted,  lorn  of  issue,  let  me  fall ! 
Cho,     Out,  alas,  dark  deed  of  crime  ! 

Foul  and  hideous  was  thy  death. 
Woe  for  all  the  wrongs  of  Time  ! 

Sorrow  is  theirs,  who  still  have  breath. 
Oe.  Say,  guilty  or  not  guilty  ?     Here,  behold  ! 
This  cloth  bears  witness  how  Aegisthus'  sword 
Plunged  deep  !     The  stains,  agreeing  with  the  years. 
Mar  all  the  pattern  with  their  pallid  hue. 
Gazing  on  this,  I  feel  my  father's  worth, 
I  wail  his  death,  as  1  were  there  to  see. 
And  this  vile  web  awakes  my  heart  to  mourn 
For  all  things  done  and  suffered  by  our  race 
From  its  first  hour  to  this  dire  victory. 
Cho.     None  that  dwelleth  upon  earth 

Standeth  free  from  grief  and  fear. 
Woe  hath  been  and  woe  hath  birth, 
One  is  now  and  one  is  near. 
Or.  Hear  me  declare: — How  this  will  end  I  know 
not. 
I  feel  the  chariot  of  my  spirit  borne 
Far  wide.     My  soul,  like  an  ill-managed  com'ser. 
Is  carrying  me  away,  while  my  poor  heart 
To  hor  o-ivn  music  dances  in  wild  fear. 
Then,  while  I  am  still  myself,  hear  me  declare: — 
Friends,  it  was  right  my  mother  should  be  slain  ; 
Else  had  my  father's  death  defiled  your  land. 
Her  life  was  an  offence  to  heaven  !     And  1 
Was  dra\vn  to  do  it  by  one  power  alone, 
— That  I  proclaim, — Phoebus,  the  Pythian  Seer, 
Sajung,  if  1  did  it  I  should  bear  no  blame. 
But  if  I  did  it  not,  the  punishment 
Were  more  than  I  can  speak  of, — far  beyond 
A  human  archer's  flight  to  o'ertake  that  woe  ! 
\nd  now.  behold,  I  go  to  find  his  seat, 


1035-1069]  OR  THE  LIBATION-BEARERS      195 

Armed  with  this  olive-branch  and  tuft  of  wool, 
To  earth's  mid-navel,  Phoebus'  dwelling-place. 
And  the  bric^ht  flame,  pronounced  imperishable. 
For  refuge  from  this  heart-offending  blood. 
He  charged  me  not  to  seek  another  shrine. 
The  hour  will  come  when  all  this  Argive  folk 
Will  be  my  witness — Menelaus  too, — 
This  evil  was  predestined  and  unblamed. 
I  wander  forth  again  an  outlawed  exile  : 
But  this  my  declaration  will  remain 
To  clear  Orestes,  whether  he  hve  or  die. 

Cho.  Nay,  nay,  thy  deed  was  good  :  yoke  not  thy 
tongue 
To  evil  auspice  and  foreboding  drear. 
All  Argos'  people  hold  their  liberties 
Of  thee,  who  hast  cloven  the  twofold  dragon's  neck. 

Or.  Ah  !  ah  ! 
Whati  grisly  troop  come  yonder  in  grey  robes, 
With  Gorgon-faces  and  thick  serpent-hair 
Twisted  in  writhing  coils  ?     I  must  be  gone. 

Cho.  Best  of  all  sons  unto  thy  sire,  what  fancies 
Dizzy  thy  brain  ?     Be  constant.     Calm  thy  fear. 

Ob.  This  is  no  fancy,  but  a  present  woe. 
I  see  my  mother's  Furies  clearly  there  ! 

Cho.  The  blood  is  yet  but  recent  on  thy  hand. 
Hence  this  confusion  of  thy  heart  and  brain. 

Or.  O  Lord  Apollo  !     There  !     What  multitudes  ! 
Their  eyes  drop  down  with  hate  and  loveless  blood. 

Cho.  Yet  there  is  peace  for  thee.     Apollo's  hand 
Shall  free  thy  life  from  this  assault  of  woe. 

Or.  Ye  do  not  see  them  ;  but  I  see  them  well. 
They  are  on  me  !     They  pursue  me  forth.     I  go.    [Exit. 

Cho.  May  peace  attend    thy  path,  and  some  kind 
power 
O'erlook  and  guard  thee  in  a  prosperous  way  ! 

Three  storms  have  spent  their  strength  against  these 

walls. 
The  third  is  over.     First  in  yonder  halls 
Came  death  of  children  and  a  feast  abhorred. 


19S  THE  CHOEPHOROE        [1070-1076 

Then  that  foul  murder  of  our  kingly  lord. 
— The  leader  of  the  Achaean  host  was  held 
Within  the  bath  :  there,  without  mercy,  felled. — 
Now  thirdly  comes,  a  saviour,  shall  I  say. 
Or  crowning  sorrow  ?     Whither  will  the  sway 
Of  fate  lead  forth  the  issue  ?     Where  shall  cease 
Dread  At^'s  fury  ?     When  be  lulled  to  peace  ? 


THE   EUMENIDES 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

The  Pythoness. 

Chorus  of  Erinyes,  or  Furies. 

Athena, 

Ghost  of  Clytemnestea. 

Apollo. 

Orestes. 

Council  of  the  Areopagus. 

Attendant  Maidens. 

The  Scene  is  laid,  at  first,  before  the  adytum  (or 
inmost  shrine)  of  Apollo  at  Delphi  ;  afterwards  on  the 
hill  of  the  Acropolis  at  Athens. 

The  Time  of  the  opening  Scene  is  shortly  after  the 
death  of  Clytemnestra.  Then  an  interval  of  months  or 
years  is  supposed  to  elapse. 


Orestes  has  arrived  at  his  destination,  the  temple  of 
Apollo  at  Delphi  (Choeph.  1034 ff.),  pursued  by  the  Erinyes. 
He  is  clinging  to  the  omphalos,  and  they  have  fallen  asleep. 
This  scene  is  disclosed  after  the  prologue,  in  which  the 
Pythian  priestess  describes  the  unexpected  sight,  and  her 
terror  on  beholding  it. 

Apollo  himself  then  appears,  and  assures  Orestes  of  his 
protection,  but  bids  him  proceed  to  Athens  for  Athena's  j  udg- 
ment.  He  departs  and  the  Erinyes  remain.  But  Clytemnes- 
tra's  ghost  arrives  and  rouses  them.  They  sing  their  wild 
prelude,  after  which  they  are  driven  forth  by  Apollo. 

The  scene  is  changed  to  Athens,  where  Orestes  makes  his 
supphcation  to  Athena.  The  Erinyes  enter,  and,  after  a 
brief  altercation,  sing  over  him  their  '  binding  hymn.' 

Athena  now  comes  in  person  and  finds  Orestes  clinging 
to  her  image,  with  the  Erinyes  round  him.  She  challenges 
these  strange  intruders ;  they  declare  their  office,  and  the 
goddess  obtains  from  Orestes  an  account  of  himself. 
Weighing  the  gravity  of  the  cause,  Athena  makes  known 
her  purpose  of  instituting  her  Council  of  the  Areopagus. 
While  the  Elders  are  assembhng,  the  Erinyes  make  known 
their  mission  to  mankind. 

Silence  is  proclaimed  by  order  of  Athena  ;  and,  as  the 
first  witness,  Apollo  comes  in.  He  not  only  gives  evidence, 
but  pleads  in  favour  of  Orestes  that  the  son  is  bound  to  his 
father  but  not  to  his  mother. 

Both  sides  having  been  heard,  the  Elders  cast  their  votes 
into  the  two  urns.  Athena  gives  her  vote  openly,  de- 
claring that  should  the  Court  Ce  equally  divided,  her  voice 
will  determine  the  case  for  acquittal.  She  has  no  mother, 
and  her  sympathies  are  on  the  father's  side.  A  moment  of 
suspense  follows,  while  the  votes  are  counted.  They  prove 
to  be  equal  on  both  sides,  and  Orestes  is  accordingly 
acquitted.  He  proclaims  an  indefeasible  alliance  between 
Argos  and  Athens.  The  Erinyes  give  vent  to  their  indigna- 
tion at  being  overborne  by  '  younger  gods.'  But  their 
chagrin  is  at  last  softened  by  the  promises  and  the  per- 
suasive eloquence  of  Athena.  They  consent  to  remain  in 
Athens,  not  to  curse  but  to  bless  the  people,  so  long  as  house- 
hold purity  and  equitable  dealings  are  duly  observed.  A 
dwelhng  is  appointed  for  them  in  a  cave  beneath  the  Hill  of 
Ares,  and  to  this  they  are  conducted  by  their  appointed 
female  guides  in  a  solemn  procession,  with  which  the  play 
(and  the  whole  trilogy)  concludes. 


THE   EUMENIDES 


The  Pythoness  is  discovered. 

Pyth.  First  in  my  prayer  I  sanctify  the  power 
Of  Earth,  first  prophetess  ;  and  then  of  her, 
Themis,  who  next  upon  her  mother's  throne 
Of  divination  sate,  as  legends  tell. 
Third  came  and  by  consent  was  stablished  here 
Another  Titan  daughter  of  the  ground, 
Phoebe,  who  gave,  in  honour  of  his  birth. 
This  place  to  Phoebus,  near  to  her  in  name. 
He  left  the  Delian  reef  and  the  broad  sea. 
Landed  on  Pallas'  ship-receiving  shore. 
And  sought  these  pastures,  'neath  Parnassus'  height, 
Led  by  Hephaestus'  sons,  his  worshippers, 
Good  pioneers  %vho  make  rough  countries  smooth. 
This  people,  at  his  coming,  and  their  king, 
Delphos,  sage  pilot  of  the  land,  enriched  liim 
With  reverent  offerings,  while  Zeus  inspired 
His  heart  with  wisdom,  and  established  him 
Fourth  holder  of  this  high  prophetic  seat. 
Here  Phoebus  dwells,  his  Sire's  interpreter. 

These  names  I  make  the  prelude  of  my  prayer. 
Then,  praising  Pallas  of  the  vestibule, 
And  the  fair  nymphs,  where  the  Corycian  cave. 
Beloved  of  birds,  owns  presence  more  divine, 
Nor  yet  forgetting  him,  who  haunts  this  land 
Since,  leading  forth  his  Bacchanals  to  war. 
He  hunted  Pentheus  like  a  hare  ; — once  more. 
Naming  the  springs  of  Pleistos  and  the  strong 
Poseidon,  and  the  absolute  perfectness 
Of  Zeus,  I  mount  to  my  prophetic  throne. 
May  all  these  powers  now  crown  mine  entrance  here 
With  best  acceptance  !     H  the  worshippers 


200  THE  EUMENIDES  [3^-65 

Be  Greeks,  let  them  cast  lots,  and  so  come  in. 
Keeping  the  ordinance.     For  I  give  foith 
My  oracles,  even  as  the  god  shall  lead. 

[She  enters  the    '  adytum  '  /   and  presently  cornea 
forth  again. 
Dreadful  to  tell  of,  dreadful  to  behold. 
Is  that  which  drives  me  back  from  Phoebus'  shrine. 
It  saps  my  vigour,  and  unnerves  my  knees. 
That  hands  for  feet  must  prop  my  tottering  gait. 
A  frightened  crone  is  nothing,  a  mere  babe. 

I  came  within  the  laurel-mantled  cell  : 
Where  kneeling  at  Earth's  navel  I  behold 
A  man  red-handed,  with  blood-dabbled  blade. 
And  branch  of  olive  from  the  topmost  bough, 
Wound  modestly  in  suppliant-wise  with  wool 
(To  tell  it  plainly)  copious,  white  and  pure. 
But  seated  there  before  him  were  a  troop 
Of  women,  shall  I  say  ?     A  wondrous  band, 
Not  women,  nay  but  Gorgons.     No,  the  type- 
Is  different.     I  beheld  the  Gorgons  once 
Painted  as  robbing  Phineus  of  his  food. 
These  have  no  wings,  and  they  are  dark  of  hue 
And  altogether  hideous,  breathing  out 
Their  snorting  breath  in  gusts  not  to  be  borne, 
Distilling  from  their  eyelids  drops  of  hate. 
Nor  is  their  garb  befitting  to  come  near 
Man's  dwelling,  much  less  heavenly  tabernacles. 
I  have  seen  no  race  that  harbours  such  a  breed. 
Nor  know  I  what  strange  land  that  gendered  them 
Vaunts  to  have  reared  them  without  after-woe. 
Let  mighty  Phoebus  for  his  outi  behoof 
Look  to  what  follows.     He  is  master  here. 
Who  with  high  vision  and  all-potent  charms 
Purges  all  mansions.     Let  him  purge  his  own. 

The  adytum  is  opened.     Orestes  and  the  Furies  are 
discovered.     Apollo  appears. 
Apollo  {to  Or.).  I  will  ne'er  forsake  thee.     I,  thy 
constant  guard, 
Near  thee  or  far,  seen  or  invisible. 


66-103]  THE  EUMENIDE3  20J 

Will  still  be  keenly  hostile  to  thy  foes. 

Even  now  thou  see'st  these  Furies  overta'en, 

Their  madness  lost  in  sleep — maidens  abhorred, 

Aged,  but  ever  crude,  whom  none  that  lives, 

Man,  God,  or  beast,  e'er  met  in  fellowship. 

To  evil  they  were  born,  evil  the  gloom 

Of  Tartarus  their  haunt  beneath  the  ground. 

And  hated  both  of  men  and  gods  in  Heaven 

The  power  they  exercise.     Yet  liy  thou  still 

Unflaggingly,  for  they  will  drive  thee  far 

Over  wide  continents  with  wandering  foot. 

And  o'er  the  deep  by  many  an  island  town. 

Weary  not  thou  of  tending  this  hard  toil, 

Till  thou  be  come  to  Pallas'  city,  and  kneel, 

Clasping  her  ancient  image  with  thine  arm. 

There,  pleading  this  thy  cause  with  eloquent  words 

To  righteous  judges,  we  will  find  a  way 

To  clear  thee  and  release  thee  from  thy  load. 

'Twas  I  that  counselled  thee  to  kill  thy  mother. 

Orestes.  Apollo,  thou  art  righteous  :  yet  take  heed ; 
Knowing  the  right,  be  unremitting,  too. 
Thy  strength  for  all  good  deeds  is  well-assured. 

Ap.  Remember ;    let  not  terror  quell  thy  heart. 
And  thou,  my  brother  of  one  blood  with  me, 
Hermes,  protect  him,  to  thy  title  true  ; — 
Shepherd  of  souls,  lead  this  my  suppliant, 
^^'here  under  thy  blest  guidance,  outlawed  wights 
Have  warrant  from  the  Highest  of  zealous  care. 

[Apollo  is  withdrawn.     Exit  Oeestes 

ClytemjsEStra's  Ghost  appears. 
Cly.  Soho  ! 
Sleep  on  ! — \Miat  gain  I  from  your  slumbering  ? 
Save  that  amongst  my  neighbours  of  the  dead. 
Thus  foiled  by  you,  still  taunted  with  my  deed, 
I  wander  in  disgrace.     Be  ware  thereof  ! 
They  hold  me  guilty.     Yet  for  me,  who  suffered 
That  cruel  death  at  hand  of  mine  own  offspring, 
Ko  vengeance-wTcaking  power  stands  up  in  wrath. 
Behold,  I  say,  this  matricidal  wound  ! 


202  THE  EUMENIDES  [104-138 

See  it  with  thy  spirit ;  for  the  soul  in  slumber 

Hath  ofttimes  clearer  vision.     By  daylight 

Our  best  foreseeings  are  but  narrow  and  dim. 

Much  wealth  of  mine  ye  have  glutted,  drink-olierings. 

Unmixed  with  wine,  tempered  to  soothe  your  heart. 

And  rich  burnt  offerings  at  dead  of  night, 

That  hour  of  dread,  avoided  by  all  gods. 

Now  those  my  gifts  are  trampled  under  foot, 

And  he  is  gone,  escaping  like  a  fa^vn. 

Springing  with  ease  out  of  your  midmost  net. 

With  e3'e3  of  triumph  o'er  your  impotence. 

Hear  this  appeal :  consider,  O  ye  powers 

Of  nether  gloom  !     Touching  my  soul  I  speak, 

I,  Clyteranestra,  now  a  shadowy  dream. 

Cho.  Ngrr  ! 

Cly.  Snore  ye  ?     But  he  is  gone,  fled  forward  far. 
My  son  hath  his  abettors — I  have  none. 

Cho.  Ngrr  ! 

Cly.  Too  deep  thy  slumber.     WTiere  is  thy  com- 
passion ? 
His  mother's  murderer,  Orestes,  flies. 

Cno.  Oh! 

Cly.  '  Oh  ! '  say'st  thou  ?     Still  asleep  !     Arise  with 
speed. 
When  hast  thou  managed  aught  save  plots  of  bane  ? 

Cno.   Oh  ! 

Cly.  Sleep  and  fatigue,  confirmed  conspirators. 
Have  undermined  the  dreaded  monster's  might. 

Cho.  Ngrgr  !  {waking). 
Take  hold  !   take  hold  !   take  hold  !   take  hold.      Be 
ware  ! 

Cly.  In  dreams  you  hunt  your  prey,  and  like  a 
hound 
Tliat  broods  upon  the  chase  unceasingly. 
Whimper.     For  shame  !     Rise,  yield  not  to  fatigue. 
Nor  let  soft  slumber  dull  the  sense  of  wrong. 
Smart  inwardly  beneath  my  just  rebuke. 
Reproof  to  honest  hearts  is  like  a  goad. 
Follow  him  forth,  renewing  your  pursuit. 
And  let  the  fell  wind  of  3'our  gory  breath. 


138-173]  THE  EUMENIDES  203 

Hot  vapour  from  the  furnace  of  your  hate, 
Strike  full  upon  his  wildly  drifting  bark, 
To  shrivel,  blast,  consume  and  wither  him. 

[Ghost  vanisJies. 

Chorus. 

Awake  !     Waken  thou  her,  as  I  wake  thee  ! 

Wilt  thou  yet  sleep  ?     Arise,  and,  spurning  slumber. 

Prove  we  our  prelude,  whether  it  be  of  power. 

Ugh  !     They  have  done  us  wrong.     Friends,  o'er  and 
o'er  I  1 

We  are  wronged  without  redress.     Most  grievous  woe, 
Ugh  !  is  our  lot,  an  ill  not  to  be  borne. 
The  net  is  void,  the  quarry  vanished  forth  ! 
Vanquished  by  slumber  I  have  lost  my  prey 

Robber  of  rights  art  thou,  son  of  the  highest !      I  2 

Thy  youth  has  trampled  down  our  ancient  power. 

All  for  thy  suppliant's  cause  ;  a  man  forbid, 

Godless,  abhorred,  the  ruthless  matricide. 

A  god,  thou  hast  stolen  away  the  abominable. 

The  blood-accursed.     Shalt  thou  be  cleared  for  this  ? 

What  dreams  were  mine  !  Reproach,  a  charioteer,    II 1 
With  piercing  goad  held  javelin-wise,  hath  smitten 
Beneath  my  heart  upon  a  vital  spot. 
Like  the  executioner's  hated  scourge  it  stings 
With  deep-intiicted  inly  shuddering  wound. 

Such  deeds  this  younger  brood  of  gods  will  do,        II  2 
Swaying  all  things  by  main  force  beyond  the  right. 
One  sheet  of  gore,  mantled  from  base  to  cope, 
Earth's  midmost  shrine  is  visibly  beheld 
Self-cloked  with  horror- breathing  guilt  of  blood. 

O  prophet-god,  thou  hast  stained  thine  own  hearth- 
stone, III  1 
From  thine  own  mind,  moved  by  no  just  appeal. 
Breaking  the  law  of  gods  to  honour  man, 
Threatening  to  quell  Fate's  everlasting  reign. 


204  THE  EmiENIDES  [174-208 

My  heart   tlioii   hast   vexed    and  shalt  not   free   his 
soul ;  111  2 

Yea,  though  he  lurk  in  hell,  he  is  forfeit  still. 
This  refuge  but  redoubles  the  offence 
That  dogs  him  to  dire  ruin  unredeemed, 

Ap.  [re-appearlng).  Begone,  I  bid  you,  forth  of  mine 
abode ! 
Speed  your  departure  from  my  mj'stic  cell ; 
Lest,  overta'en  by  the  wing'd  glistering  snake, 
Steel-fanged.  that  darts  from  tliis  all-golden  bow. 
Ye  emit  dark  flesh-froth  in  your  agonjs 
Vomit  of  heart's  blood  ye  have  drained  from  men. 
Profane  not  with  your  presence  this  fair  shrine  ; 
But  go  where  headsmen  execute  the  doom, 
Where  eyes  are  gouged,  throats  gashed,  where  robbed 

of  prime 
Boys  lose  all  hope  of  offspring,  tender  limbs 
Are  hacked  or  stoned  ;  where  men,  impaled  alive. 
Moan  long  and  bitterly.     Hear  ye  what  feast 
Hath  charms  for  j^ou,  ye  god-abominate  ? 
Your  every  Uneament  declares  it.     Go, 
Inhabit,  as  beseems  such  forms,  the  den 
Of  some  blood-lapping  lion,  nor  infect 
\Vith  touch  accursed  my  oracular  seat. 
Go,  herded  by  no  goat-herd,  ye  fell  flock. 
Hated  of  all  in  Heaven.     Awa\%  depart  ! 

Cno.  Sovereign  Apollo,  hear  but  our  reply : 
Thou  of  this  outrage  not  the  accomplice  arr. 
But  author  and  sole  agent,  guilty  of  all. 

Ap.  How  is  that  certified  ?     Speak  so  far  forth. 

Cho.  Your  oracle  prevailed  with  this  your  guest. 
That  he  should  kill  his  mother. 

Ap.  I  declared 

(How  should  I  not  ?)  that  he  should  right  his  sire. 

Cho.  Thou  didst  receive  him  ere  the  blood  was  dry. 

Ap.  I  bade  him  crave  atonement  at  this  shrine. 

Cho.  And  now  he  comes,  blame  you  his  escort  here  T 

Ap.  As  unbefitting  to  approach  my  doors. 

Cho.  'Tis  our  appointed  office. 


209-23S]  THE  EUMENIDES  205 

Ap.  How  ?    Make  known 

Four  glorious  privilege. 

Cho.  To  dog  the  steps 

Of  matricides  and  drive  them  far  from  home. 

Ap.  And  what  of  husband-slaying  wives  ? 

Cho.  That  blood 

Bears  not  the  blame  of  kindred  violence. 

Ap.  Far  then  from  honour  and  of  small  account 
Ye  rate  the  pledge  great  Hera  gave  to  Zeus, 
And  rob  of  all  regard  the  Queen  of  Love 
From  whom  fresh  springs  of  sweetest  concord  flow. 
Since  fate-appointed  wedlock  well  observed 
'Twist  man  and  wife  is  mightier  than  an  oath. 
Now,  if  one  slay  the  other  and  no  wrath 
From  thee  arise,  no  watchful  recompense. 
Unfairly  dost  thou  chase  Orestes  forth. 
One  crime  thou  weighest  full  heavily,  and  ong 
The  world  may  see  thee  taking  quietly. 
Howbeit,  this  cause  Athena  shall  review, 

Cho.  I'll  ne'er  relinquish  him  ;  believe  it  not. 

Ap.  Pursue  him  then,  and  make  thy  labour  more. 

Cho.  Disparage  not  my  rights  in  thy  discourses. 

Ap.  I  care  not  for  thy  rights. 

Cho.  Thou  hast  thine  own. 

Nearest  the  throne  supreme,  so  rumour  saith. 
Meanwhile,  di-awn  by  the  scent  of  mother's  blood, 
I'll  prosecute  this  quarry  and  hunt  him  down. 

Ap.  And  I'll  protect  my  suppliant  with  my  power. 
For  should  I  willingly  forsake  his  cause, 
His  wrath  in  Heaven  and  earth  were  full  of  dread. 

[Exeunt, 

The  scene  is  changed  to  the  Athenian  Acropolis.     A  lon^ 
time  is  supposed  to  have  intervened. 

Orestes. 

Sovereign  Athena,  sped  by  Phoebus'  word 
I  am  come.     Do  thou  with  clemency  receivo 
The  outcast, — not  red-handed,  nor  unpurged, 
But  melloAved  by  long  time,  and  travel-worn 


206  THE  EUMENIDES  [239-271 

Among  new  households,  alien  ways,  o'er  land 
Axid  beyond  sea,  keeping  the  oracular  charge 
Of  Phoebus,  in  obedience  to  whose  will 
I  come,  dread  goddess,  to  thy  sanctuary  ; 
Now,  clinging  to  thy  holy  image  here, 
I  bide  the  issue  of  the  arbitrament. 


Chorus  {entering). 

So  !     'Tis  his  trail  beyond  a  doubt.     Pursue 
The  voiceless  guide's  direction.     Like  a  hound 
Tracking  the  blood-marks  of  a  wounded  fawn, 
I  quest  and  follow  where  the  gore-drops  lie. 

jMy  breast  heaves  inwardly  and  pants  with  toil 

Of  mankind-quelling  travail.     The  whole  earth 

I  have  ranged  in  shepherding  my  quarry,  and  flown 

Wingless  over  the  deep  pursuing  him, 

No  ship  more  swiftly.     Now  he  is  hereabout. 

Not  far,  close-crouched,  ab  on  her  form  the  hare. 

My  spirit  smiles :  blood  smell  I,  human  blood. 
Spy  all  around  again,  lest  he  be  gone. 
Lest  he  be  flown  unwarcs,  scathless  of  us. 
Stained  with  a  mother's  death,  stolen  from  our  view. 

Nay,  but  again  he  hath  found  protection  here : 
Hugging  the  image  of  the  undying  maid, 
He  sues  her  arbitration  for  his  crime. 

Avails  him  nought ;   the  mother's  blood,  ah  woe  I 
Once  poured  upon  the  ground,  is  past  recall. 

Thou  from  thy  living  limbs  shalt  yield  in  turn 
Ued  pulp  of  thy  fair  flesh  to  be  devoured 
By  me.     I  will  nourish  me  with  the  strange  draught 
Pressed  from  the  vintage  of  thy  youth.     I  will  drain 
And   drag    thee   do%vn    where    thou   shalt   pay   with 

pangs 
Tliy  mother's  death -throes.     There  shalt  thou  behold 
Whoever  else  hath  sinned  of  mortal  men, 
And  dealt  unrighteously  with  impious  heart 
Toward  god  or  stranger  or  dear  mother  or  sire, — 


272-308]  THE  EUMENIDES  207 

Each  overwhelmed  with  his  due  meed  of  doom. 
Tor  Hades  holds  his  audit  there  beneath, 
And  leaves  nought  blank  in  that  dire  register. 

Ok.  Taught  wisdom  in  the  school  of  misery 
I  am  learned  in  all  atonement,  and  have  skill 
To  hold  my  peace  or  speak  in  season  due. 
But  in  this  day's  affair  I  am  authorized 
Under  high  bidding  to  speak  forth.     The  stains 
Of  slaughter  on  my  hands  are  dulled  and  pale. 
The  guilt  of  matricide  is  washed  away. 
For,  while  yet  recent,  at  Apollo's  hearth 
'Twas  driven  out  and  purged  with  death  of  swine. 
And  tedious  were  the  number  to  tell  o'er 
Of  men  I  have  communed  M'ith  and  brought  no  harm  : 
All-mellowing  Time  makes  old  defilement  pure. 
Kow  with  clean  lips  void  of  offence  I  call 
Athena,  sovereign  of  this  land,  to  come 
And  be  mine  aid  :  in  recompense  whereof 
Myself,  my  country,  and  our  Argive  men 
Shall,  without  conquest,  be  for  evermore 
Her  faithful  firm  allies.     WTiether  she  move 
Within  the  region  of  the  Libyan  land 
By  the  Tritonian  waters  of  her  birth, 
Or  sit  enthroned  there,  aiding  whom  she  loves, 
Or  whether,  a  bold  manlike  marshaller. 
She  sway  the  armies  of  Phiegraean  fields. 
May  she  come  hither — for  a  god  can  hear 
Though  far  away — and  loose  me  from  my  load. 

Cho.  Think  not  Apollo  nor  Athena's  might 
Shall  rescue  thee  from  wandering  all  forlorn 
On  paths  of  ruin,  never  tasting  joy. 
Sapless,  the  dwindling  food  of  wTathful  powers. 
Answerest  thou  not,   but  scornest  all  I  speak. 
Thou,  stalled  and  consecrate  for  my  behoof  ? 
I'll  eat  thee  alive  ere  thou  be  sacrificed. 
Hark  to  the  song  that  shall  enthrall  thy  soul ! 

[The  Chobus  range  themselves  in  Che  Orchestra. 

Come  knit  we  our  ranks  in  the  dance,  for  my  heart  now 
is  bent  to  declare 


208  THE  EUMENIDES  [309-341 

The  spirit  of  horror  that  moves  us,  the  rights  over  men, 

and  the  care 
That  our  company  wieldeth.     Our  judgement  we  ever- 
more hold  to  be  just. 
No  wrath  from  us  creeps  toward  the  wight  who  shows 

hands  free  from  murder  and  lust ; 
He  shall  live  all  his  days  far  from  evil.     No  harm  shall 

the  righteous  betide. 
But  when  one  hath  sinned  like  this  man,  and  his  gory 

transgression  would  hide, 
We  appear  for  the  dead,  and  our  witness,  that  swerves 

not  in  aught  from  the  truth, 
O'ertakes  the  blood-guilty  with  ruin,  and  shatters  his 

life  without  ruth. 

Mother,  who  gave  me  birth, — 0  mother  Night ! —     1  1 
For  chastisement  of  souls  tliat  dwell  in  light 
And  darkness,  hear  my  grief  !     Latona's  child 
Robs  me  of  honour, — he  would  wrest  away 

This  cowering  prey. 
My  victim,  with  a  mother's  death  defiled ; 

To  plague  whose  head 

])iscomforted, 

We  sing  this  strain, 

The  spirit's  chain. 

Dazing  all  reason  dim. 

The  Furies'  binding  hymn, 

Enlivened  with  no  lyre. 

Setting  the  heart  on  fire. 

To  mortal  men  a  bane. 
Ranking  them  with  the  dead. 

Eternal  Fate  decreed  for  me  this  lot  I  2 

TJnchangeably,  deep  in  my  life  inwrought, 

To  follow  close  on  him  of  mortal  mould 

\Mio  hath  slain  his  kin.     I  track  him  to  his  doom 

Beyond  the  tomb, 
Nor  is  he  free  from  guilt  though  dead  and  cold : 

To  plague  whose  head 

Discomforted, 


329-371]  THE  EmiENIDES  209 

V\'e  sing  this  strain, 
The  spirit's  chain, 
Dazing  all  reason  dim, 
I         The  Furies'  binding  hymn. 
Enlivened  with  no  lyre, 
Setting  the  heart  on  fire. 
To  mortal  men  a  bane, 
Ranking  them  with  the  dead. 

This  destined  power  attends  me  from  my  birth       II  1 

O'er  habitants  of  Earth, 
But  no  immortal  answereth  at  my  call, 

Nor  shares  my  festival : 

Their  milk-white  garb  to  wear 

I  neither  hope  nor  care. 

But  when  domestic  strife 

Hath  ta'en  a  kindred  life, 

To  plague  that  head 

Discomforted, 

We  keenly  race, 

In  eager  chase  : 
And,  mighty  though  he  be. 
We  make  him  pine  and  dree 

Blood  strangely  shed. 

But  from  all  else  we  would  forfend  this  care,      II  2 

Xor  let  immortals  share 
The  burden  of  dread  rites  assigned  to  me. 

Beyond  appeal  are  we. 

Since  from  his  council-board 

Zeus  bans  this  brood  abhorred. 

And  hates  us,  dripping  o'er 

With  recompensing  gore — 

When  on  the  head 

Discomforted 

We  bring  with  might 

And  wild  aft  right 
Our  bounding  tread. 

With  tireless  feet 

Quelling  the  fleet, — 


210  THE  EUMENIDES  [372-401 

Whom  none  shall  save; 
Daunting  the  brave 
With  cureless  dread. 

Imaginations  high  III  1 

And  flaunting  to  the  sky, 

Dim.inished,  fade  and  shrink, 

And  down  to  darkness  sink 

At  our  soul-withering  glance 

And  our  dark-vestui-ed  dance. 

His  mind  with  madness  fraught  III  2 

He  falls,  but  knoweth  it  not 

Such  overshadowing  ban 

Hovers  to  blind  the  man, 

WTiile  rumour  all  around 

Of  darkness  doth  resound. 

Lament  it  how  ye  may,  the  darkness  broods      IV  I 
And  lingers.     Not  for  us  are  changeful  moods 
Or  futile  purposes.     Our  thoughts  endure. 
Inexorable  are  we,  severe  and  sure. 
Dread,  though  dishonoured  and  cut  off  from  Day 
Aloof  from  all  the  gods  we  hold  our  way 
On  paths  of  horror,  rough  with  fell  Despair ; 
Men  seeing  and  blind  alike  shall  stumble  there. 

Who  then  can  listen  without  trembling  awo        IV  2 
\^Tien  we  proclaim  our  fate-entrusted  law, 
AMiich  Gods  allow  and  ratify  ?     My  power. 
Mine  from  of  old,  is  mine  unto  this  hour  ; 
In  primal  darkness  once  for  all  'twas  given. 
Before  the  natal  hour  of  Earth  and  Heaven, 
Though  under-ground  be  mine  appointed  home 
Where  Helios'  genial  rays  may  never  come. 

Athexa  appears. 
Athena.  I  heard  your  shout  of  summons  from  afar. 
Where  by  Scamander  I  was  purposing 
To  take  possession  of  the  soil  which  erst 
The  Achaean  leaders,  foremost  of  their  race. 
Gave  as  my  portion  of  the  spoils  of  war. 


402-431]  THE  EUMENIDES  211 

In  freehold  indefeasible  and  sure. 

A  glorious  meed  for  Theseus'  progeny. 

Thence  I  have  travelled  without  weariness 

Yoking  to  this  my  car  the  all-perfect  steeda, 

Wingless,  with  aegis  flapping  on  the  wind. 

Your  presence,  unfamiliar  to  my  land, 

Daunts  me  no  whit,  yet  with  strange  looks  I   greet 

you. 
Who  and  what  are  ye  ?     To  all  hero  I  speak, 
Both  to  this  stranger  kneeling  by  my  shrine. 
And  you,  like  unto  none  begotten  or  born, 
Seen  not  of  gods  amongst  the  goddesses. 
Nor  comparable  to  mortal  semblances. 
Llore  say  I  not.     'Twere  far  from  equity 
To  speak  ha,rsh  judgements  without  matter  of  blame. 

Cho.  Daughter  of  Zeus,  thou  shalt  hear  all  in  brief. 
We  are  gloom -diffusing  children  of  dark  night  ; 
Called    '  Weird  ones  '  in  our  home  beneath  the  ground. 

Ath.  That  name  and  parentage  I  know  full  well. 

Cno.  My  rights  and  attributes  thou  art  now  to  learn. 

Ath.  I  shall  not  fail,  so  they  be  clearly  told. 

Cho.  I  hunt  the  homicide  from  home. 

Ath.  And  where 

Ends  for  the  man-slayer  his  flight  ? 

Cho.  Where  joy 

Hath  no  abiding-place. 

Ath.  'Gainst  him  now  here 

Doth  thy  harsh  voice  proclaim  such  banishment  ? 

Cho.  Since  he  hath  chosen  to  be  his  mother's  slayer. 

Ath.  And  was  that  choice  without  compulsive  dread  ? 

Cho.  Whose  ^vTath  so  terrible  that  could  enforce 
A  parent's  slaughter  ? 

Ath.  I  have  heard  one  side. 

Two  being  in  presence. 

Cho.  But  the  accused  is  one 

Incompetent  to  swear,  a  perjured  soul. 

Ath.  Ye  love  the  name  of  righteous,  I  perceive. 
More  than  true  righteousness. 

Cho.  How  ?     Let  me  hear. 

Thou  art  opulent  in  wisdom. 


212  THE  EUMENIDES  [432-469 

Ath.  Care  not  thou 

For  wrongful  victory  ^von  through  an  oath. 

Cho.  Question  him,  then,  and  judge  the  cause  aright. 

Ath.  Consent  ye  my  decision  shall  be  law  ? 

Cho.  Yea,  bending  to  thy  worth  and  parentage. 

Ath.  Stranger,  make  answer  in  thy  turn.     Declare, 
First,  thy  descent,  thy  country,  thy  distress. 
Then  thy  defence  against  the  charge  preferred  ; 
If  in  reliance  on  just  right  thou  art  here 
Grasping  mine  image,  watching  by  my  shrine, 
Ixion-like,  in  formal  suppliant  guise. 
To  these  demands  speak  plainly  thy  reply. 

Ob.  Sovereign  Athena,  let  me  first  remove 
From  thy  last  words  a  weight  of  anxious  care. 
Suppliant,  but  not  red-handed,  I  kneel  here 
Beside  thine  image,  staining  not  thy  shrine. 
Hereof  I  bring  assurance  unreproved. 
No  shedder  of  blood  may  ope  his  lips,  till  one 
Endued  with  power  to  cleanse  hath  sprinkled  him 
With  sacrifice  of  sucklings.     Long  ago 
In  other  fanes  that  rite  hath  passed  on  mc. 
And  streams  of  living  water  furthermore. 
My  cause  being  cleared  from  that  presumptive  blot, 
I'll  tell  thee  my  descent.     An  Argive  I, 
Whose  father  well  thou  knowest,  lord  of  the  fleet. 
With  whose  firm  aid  thou  madest  I  lion. 
The  city  of  Troy,  no  city.     He  is  dead. 
Foiled  in  his  home-return,  cruelly  slain 
By  my  black-hearted  mother,  whose  deep  guile 
Encased  his  body  with  a  cumiing  snare 
That  from  the  bath  gave  witness  of  his  blood. 
I,  being  an  exile  in  my  youth,  came  homo 
And  slew  my  mother,  I  avouch  it  here, 
Wreaking  on  her  my  dearest  father's  death. 
Which  guilt,  if  guilt  there  be,  is  amply  shared 
By  Phoebus,  who  denounced  upon  my  life 
Heart-piercing  agonies  in  recompense, 
Should  I  not  thus  requite  the  wrong-doers. 
Howbeit,  the  judgement  rests  with  thee  alone. 
Howe'er  it  fall,  I  will  accept  thy  doom. 


470-498]  THE  EUMENIDES  213 

Ath.  Too  hard  for  human  judgement  is  this  case. 
Should  mortal  undertake  it.     Yea  for  me 
To  give  decision  in  a  wrathful  suit 
For  homicide,  were  to  exceed  my  right. 
]\Ioreover, — thou  art  come  unto  my  town 
Not  unaneled, — a  harmless  suppliant, 
And  cleansed  ; — yet,  ere  thou  art  called  my  citizen, 
I  would  have  thee  clear  from  every  shadow  of  blame. 
Now  these,  where  they  have  power,  not  easily 
May  be  dismissed,  but  if  they  compass  not 
The  victory  they  crave,  their  venomed  will 
Falls  on  the  land  for  evil  in  time  to  come. 
So  stands  the  business,  troublous  every  way ; 
Ahke  disastrous  and  impossible 
For  me,  to  let  them  bide,  to  ban  them  forth. 
Howbeit,  since  the  affair  hath  lighted  here, 
The  court  I  now  appoint  for  trial  of  blood, 
— Men  reverencing  the  sanction  of  their  oath, — • 
Shall  Uve  in  ordinance  for  evermore. 
Produce  your  witness,  let  your  proofs  be  called 
In  oath-bound  aid  to  fortify  your  right. 
While  I  cull  forth  from  holy  Athens  here 
My  citizens  of  noblest  note,  to  give 
On  this  great  plea  their  true  arbitrament 
With  righteous  thoughts,  not  swerving  from  their  oath. 

[Exit  Athena 

Chorus. 

Now  the  rash-brained  spirit  of  change  I  1 

Stirs  confusion  rude  and  strange, 
If  our  suit  to-day  must  fail 

And  the  crime  and  the  cause 
Of  this  breaker  of  holiest  laws 
Shall  be  suffered  henceforth  to  prevail. 
Rendered  reckless  by  this  deed, 
In  transgression  all  agreed 
Mortals  shall  unite  for  crime. 

And  the  manifest  blow 
From  a  child,  laying  reverence  low. 
Shall  abound  in  the  on-coming  time. 


214  THE  EUIIENIDES  [498-535 

For  the  mother  or  the  sire  I  3 

Shall  in  agonies  expire, 

While  our  wrath  doth  silent  lie. 

Our  patchings  are  o'er. 
And  our  madness  shall  vex  them  no  more. 
Let  them  die  one  and  all,  let  them  die  ! 
From  his  fellow  each  shall  hear, 
TelUng  of  a  neighbour's  bier, 
'  Pangs  of  conscience  now  have  end  ; ' 

The  poor  wight  in  despair 
Cries  for  help  to  the  wandering  air. 
Not  a  soul  shall  reply,  none  attend. 

Let  not  stricken  men  make  moan  II  I 

To  Justice  or  the  Furies'  throne  ! 

That  appeal  may  often  rise 
From  some  poor  father  as  he  dies 

Or  the  mother  ere  she  's  slain  ; 

But  they  utter  it  in  vain. 

None  shall  heed  the  voice  that  calls, 

For  the  tower  of  Justice  falls. 

Somewhere,  Awe  must  have  his  seat  II  2 

And  Wisdom  find  secure  retreat. 

Since  'tis  good  beneath  the  stress 
Of  terror  to  learn  humbleness. 

Who  that  in  his  inmost  thought 

Of  heart-trembling  harbours  nought — 

Man  or  state — shall  give  to  light 

Equal  reverence  for  the  right  ? 

Approve  not  thou  the  lawless  hfe  HI  1 

Nor  that  which  tyrants  hold  in  fee. 
The  mean  in  everything  with  strength  is  rife 

By  Heaven's  supreme  decree. 
Much  else  is  diverse  in  His  government : 

This  stands  harmonious  still  and  strong ; 
Rebellious,  impious  hardiment, 

Gives  ever  birth  to  wrong. 
But  from  the  healthful  modest  heart 
That  in  no  thought  of  crime  hath  part 


536-569]  THE  EmiENIDES  215 

Springs  that  men  pray  for  earnestly, 
Ever-beloved  Prosperity. 

Take  this  monition  once  for  all  t  III  2 

Regard  with  steadfast  reverence 
The  firmly-based,  high-towering  pedestal 

Where  Right  hath  residence  ; 
Nor  spurn  it  godlessly,  beholding  gain  ; 

Since  punishment  is  hard  at  hand, 
And  final  vengeance  shall  remain 

With  ever-during  brand. 
Then  honour  parents  as  ye  ought 
With  helpful  deeds  and  reverent  thought. 
And  to  the  stranger  duly  pay 
Kind  tribute  on  his  devious  way. 

The  man  that  willingly  without  constraint  IV  1 

Keeps  righteousness,  shall  not  be  all  unblest. 
Nor  come  to  final  ruin  though  he  faint. 

But  he  that  hath  with  froward  heart  transgressed, 
Confounding  righteousness  in  wild  unrest. 
Against  his  will  shall  one  day  shorten  sail 

With  stress  of  tempest  suddenly  oppressed. 
When  yards  are  splintering  as  high  winds  prevail. 

Then,    whelmed     and    wrestling     with    the    whirling 
tide,  IV  2 

He  clamours  forth  the  appeal  that  none  shall  hear, 
While  Heavenly  powers  laugh  at  his  humbled  pride. 

His  wild  dejection,  and  his  frenzied  fear : 

Since  one  who  never  dreamed  such  grief  were  near, 
Embayed  'mongst  miseries  beyond  recall. 

Wrecks  all  his  life  held  heretofore  most  dear 
'Gainst  rocks  of  right,  where  none  laments  his  fall. 

Athexa  returns. 
Ath.  Herald,    proclaim   strict   silence   through   the 
host ; 
Or  let  the  Tuscan  trump,  piercing  the  sky, 
Sound  forth  amain,  surcharged  -nith  breath  of  man, 
Such  hest  to  all  my  people.     For  to-day. 


216  THE  EUMENIDES  [570-600 

\Miile  this  high  council  are  assembling  here, 
Behoves  mute  audience,  till  my  law  be  heard 
And  fixed  in  everlasting  memory 
By  all  this  city  and  the  councillors  here. 
That  this  great  plea  may  be  determined  well. 

Apollo  appears. 
Cho.  Sovereign  Apollo,  rule  within  thy  right. 
What  claim  hast  thou  upon  this  cause  '!     Declare. 

Ap.  I  am  here  in  evidence,  to  prove  this  man 
A  lawful  suppliant  who  approached  my  shrine 
And  there  by  me  was  purged  from  guilt  of  blood  : 
Also  to  plead,  myself,  in  part ;  for  I 
Am  charged  with  Clytemnestra's  death. — Athena, 
Open  the  cause,  in  due  form,  thine  own  way. 

Ath.  Herewith  I  open  it.     The  way  is  plain. 
We  hear  the  accuser  first,  whose  careful  plea 
Instructs  us  in  the  groundwork  of  the  case. 

Cho.  We  are  many,  but  our  words  are  brief  and  few  ; 
Let  thine  be  short  and  simple  in  reply. 
Answer  this  first.     Thy  mother  didst  "thou  slay  ? 

Or.  1  slew  her.     That  is  not  to  be  denied. 

Cho.  So.     One  of  the  three  wrestling-bouts  is  o'er. 

Or.  Boast  if  ye  will.     Ye  have  not  thrown  me  yet. 

Cho.  Still  thou  art  bound  to  tell  us  how  'twas  done. 

Or.  With  sword-edge   pressed   against   her    throat. 
'Tis  said. 

Cho    Whose  will  and  counsel  moved  thee  to  the 
deed  ? 

Or.  Apollo's  mandate,  as  he  witnesseth. 

Cho.  The  prophet  bade  thee  be  a  matricide  ? 

Or.  And  to  this  hour  I  am  well  content  withal. 

Cuo,  Thou'lt    change  that   tune,  when   judgement 
seizeth  thee. 

Or.  My  father  from  his  tomb  will  take  my  part ; 
I  fear  not. 

Cho.        Ay,  rely  on  dead  men's  aid, 
Wlien  guilty  of  matricide  ! 

Or.  She  that  is  slain 

Was  doubly  tainted. 


601-633]  THE  EUMENIDES  217 

Cho.  How  ?     Inform  the  Court. 

Or.  She  slew  her  wedded  lord,  and  slew  my  sire. 

Cho.  Death  eave  her  quittance,  then.     But  thou  yet 
livest. 

Or.  And  while  she  lived,  why  didst  thou  not  pursue 
her  ? 

Cho.  No  tie  of  blood  bound  her  to  whom  she  slew. 

Ob.  But  I  was  tied  by  blood-affinity 
To  her  who  bare  me  ? 

Cho.  E'se,  thou  accursed  one. 

How  nourished  she  thy  life  within  her  womb  ? 
Wouldst  thou  renounce  the  holiest  bond  of  all  ? 

Or.  Now  give  thy  witness  and  expound  the  truth, 
Apollo ;  was  I  just  in  slaj'ing  her  ? 
To  have  done  it  I  deny  not.     'Tis  the  fact. 
But  whether  to  thy  thought  this  matricide 
Be  justified  or  no,  declare  thy  mind 
For  information  of  those  present  here. 

Ap.  To  all  here  present  I  will  now  proclaim 
With  perfect  truth,  Athena's  high  decree. 
And  being  a  seer,  I  shall  not  be  belied. 
I  never  spake  from  my  prophetic  seat 
Concerning  man  or  woman,  people  or  state, 
Save  what  the  father  of  all  gods  had  bidden. 
The  force  hereof  'tis  meet  ye  understand. 
Lighten  your  footsteps  by  my  Father's  will ; 
For  'tis  more  binding  that  all  oaths. 

Cho.  And  Zeus, 

Thou  say'st,  inspired  thee  with  this  oracle, 
To  tell  Orestes  yonder  he  should  ^vreak 
His  father's  death  and  reck  not  of  his  motheL*  ? 

Ap.  Of  her  what  recks  it,  when  a  man  of  worth 
And  worship,  honoured  with  the  Zeus-given  wand, 
Is  slaughtered  by  a  woman,  by  his  wife, 
Not  as  by  Amazon's  far-darting  bow, 
But  in  such  wise,  Pallas,  as  thou  shalt  hear. 
And  ye  who  sit  to  vote  upon  this  case. 
With  kindly  welcome  entertaining  him 
As  he  returned  with  good  success  from  war. 
After  the  bath,  when  close  upon  the  goal. 


218  THE  EUMENIDES  [634-670 

She  screened  him  round  with  a  great  web,  then  hacked 

Her  husband  in  the  inextricable  coil. 

The  fall  hath  now  been  told  you  of  the  man 

Supreme  in  honour,  levier  of  the  fleet ; 

Told  in  such  terms  as  must  enrage  the  court 

Appointed  to  determine  this  great  cause. 

Cho.  Zeus,  thou  maintainest,  takes  the  father's  part. 
Did  he  not  bind  Cronos,  his  aged  sire  ? 
Is  not  this  contrary  to  that  ?     Reply  ! 
And  you,  ye  judges,  lend  a  careful  ear. 

Ap.  Monsters  abominable,  of  Heaven  abhorred, 
Bonds  may  be  loosed :  there  's  remedy  for  that, — 
Full  many  a  means  of  healing  and  release, — 
But  when  Earth's  dust  hath  once  drawn  in  the  blood 
Of  man  in  death,  he  riseth  up  no  more. 
No  charm  for  this  hath  my  great  Sire  contrived. 
Though  in  all  else  his  strong  omnipotence 
Works  endless  transformation  at  his  will. 

Cho.  Then  look  to  thy  defence  of  the  outcast  here. 
Shall  he,  that  shed  to  the  earth  the  dearest  blood 
Of  his  true  mother,  hokl  his  father's  hall 
In  Argos  ?     How  should  he  do  sacrifice  ? 
How  share  the  lustral  waters  of  his  race  ? 

Ap.  That  scruple  likewise  I  can  satisfy. 
She  who  is  called  the  mother  of  the  child 
Is  not  its  parent,  but  the  nurse  of  seed 
Implanted  in  begetting.     He  that  sows 
Is  author  of  the  shoot,  which  she,  if  Heaven 
Prevent  not,  keeps  as  in  a  garden-ground. 
In  proof  whereof,  to  show  that  fatherhood 
May  be  without  the  mother,  1  appeal 
To  Pallas,  daughter  of  Olympian  Zeus, 
In  present  witness  here.     Behold  a  plant, 
Not  moulded  in  the  darkness  of  the  womb, 
Yet  nobler  than  all  scions  of  Heaven's  stock. 
I,  0  Athena,  both  in  other  ways 
Will  magnify  this  people  of  thy  choice 
To  my  best  power,  and  I  have  sent  this  man 
Orestes,  to  ajiproach  thy  hearth,  that  he 
Might  evermore  be  faithful  to  thy  cause. 


671-706]  THE  EUMENIDES  219 

And  thou  miglitst  have  him  for  a  firm  ally, 
And  his  descendants,  and  this  league  might  hold 
Loyally  kept  by  the  posterity 
Of  these  thy  citizens  to  endless  time. 

Ath.  Enough  is  spoken  ;  now  I  charge  the  Court 
To  vote  in  truth  according  to  their  thought. 

Cho.  Our  quiver  is  exhausted  :  we  abide 
To  hear  the  verdict  that  decides  our  cause. 

Ath.  I  would  my  vote  might  not  displeasure  you. 

Cho.  We  have  said  our  say.     Strangers,  with  pioaa 
heart 
In  giving  each  his  vote,  observe  your  oath. 

Ath.  Athenians,  ye  who  are  trying  this  first  cause 
Of  human  bloodshedding,  hear  my  decree. 
The  people  of  Aegeus  shall  for  evermore 
Maintain  this  council  incorruptible. 
This  mount  of  Ares,  tabernacle  and  seat 
Of  the  Amazons,  who  came  in  armed  might 
Opposing  Theseus,  and,  to  thwart  his  will, 
Built  here  and  fortified  this  virgin  rock 
And  sacrificed  to  Ares,  whence  the  name 
Of  Areiopagus  ;  the  dread  whereof 
And  awful  reverence  inbred  in  the  race 
By  day  and  night  continuing  shall  restrain 
This  folk  from  wrong-doing,  whilst  the  citizens 
Avoid  rash  innovation.     Crystal  streams 
Tainted  with  clay  yield  no  refreshing  draught. 
I  counsel  this  my  people  to  revere. 
And  guard  from  change,  the  form  of  state  removed 
Alike  from  anarchy  and  tyranny, 
Not  casting  forth  all  terror  from  the  realm. 
Since  who  of  mortals,  fearing  nought,  is  just  ? 
Standing  in  awe,  then,  of  this  worshipped  seat. 
With  hearts  of  righteousness,  ye  shall  preserve 
A  fortress  of  protection  for  your  land 
Mightier  than  any  held  by  human  kind 
From  Scythia  to  the  isle  of  Pelops  olcL 
This  Court-house  inaccessible  to  wealth 
I  here  inaugurate,  swift  for  redre.ss. 
Yet  capable  of  mercy,  watching  o'er 


220  THE  EUMENIDES  [706-734 

Poor  souls  that  slumber,  warden  of  the  soil. 

I  have  thus  prolonged  my  charge  for  the  behoof 

Of  mine  own  citizens  in  times  to  be. 

Now  stand  you  forth,  lift  each  his  voting-ball. 

And  in  decision  of  this  pending  suit. 

Respect  your  oaths.     There  is  no  more  to  say. 

Cho.  Meantime  we  counsel  you,  disparage  not 
Our  dangerous  presence  cleaving  to  your  land. 

Ap.  But  I  forewarn  you,  fear  mine  oracles 
And  my  great  Sire's,  nor  make  their  issues  vain. 

Cho.  Through  wanton  furtherance  of  a  blood-stained 
cause 
Thine  oracles  are  tainted  from  to-day. 

Ap.  And  have  my  Father's  high  designs  been  foiled. 
Since  in  Ixion,  the  first  homicide. 
He  gave  protection  to  a  suppliant's  head  ? 

Cho.  Thou  talk'st,  but  we,  if  crossed  to-day,   will 
cHng 
With  dangerous  presence  to  this  land. 

Ap.  Your  rights 

Are  scouted  by  all  gods  both  old  and  young. 
My  pleading  shall  prevail. 

Cho.  Such  was  thy  course 

In  Pheres'  mansion,  when  thou  didst  persuade 
The  Fates  to  spare  a  mortal  man  his  doom. 

Ap.  Should  gods  not  favour  their  own  worshippers, 
Most  when  in  trouble  ? 

Cho.  Thou  didst  lead  astray 

Those  primal  goddesses  with  draughts  of  wine, 
O'erturning  ordinance. 

Ap.  Thou,  by  and  by, 

Cast  in  thy  suit,  shalt  vomit  venom  of  gore 
No  longer  hurtful  to  tliine  enemies. 

Cho.  Young,    thou    wouldst   override    our    ancient 
right. 
We  wait  the  issue  of  our  cause,  intent 
With  hovering  mind,  ready  to  ban  this  city. 

[During  the  above  dialogue  the  Councillors  have 
been  putting  their  votes  into  the  urns 

Ath.  To  me  it  falls  to  give  my  judgement  last. 


735-770]  THE  EUMENIDES  221 

Here  openly  I  give  it  for  Orestes. 

No  mother  bore  me.     To  the  masculine  sido 

For  all  save  marriage  my  whole  heart  is  given, — 

In  all  and  everything  the  father's  child. 

So  little  care  I  for  a  woman's  death, 

That  slew  her  lord,  the  guardian  of  her  home. 

Now,  though  the  votes  be  even,  Orestes  wins. 

Come,  ye  to  whom  the  court  hath  given  this  charge, 

Draw  forth  the  ballots  from  the  voting  urns. 

Or.  Apollo  !  which  way  will  the  issue  prove  ? 

Cho.  Night,  dark-eyed  mother,  seest  thou  what  they 
do  ? 

Ob.  The  hour  for  death  or  life  to  me  draws  on. 

Cho.  And  ours  for  ruin  or  aggrandisement. 

Ap.  Be  scrupulous,  friends,  in  numbering  either  vote, 
Parting  the  sets  without  dishonesty. 
One  pebble  wanting  makes  disaster  sure, 
That,  present,  would  restore  prosperity. 

Ath.  Orestes  hath  escaped  the  doom  of  blood. 
In  numbering  of  the  balls,  both  sides  are  even. 

Ob.  O  blest  preserver,  rescuer  of  my  home, 
Pallas,  I,  long  since  reft  of  fatherland. 
Am  now  restored  and  stablished  by  thine   aid. 
The  world  shall  say,  He  is  Argive  once  again, 
And  dwells  secure  with  his  own  patrimony. 
Through  aid  of  Pallas  and  wise  Loxias 
And  Saviour  Zeus,  t'uird-named  in  sacrifice, 
The  All-disposer,  who  preserves  my  soul. 
Moved  by  compassion  for  my  father's  death. 
Albeit  my  mother's  advocates  stand  forth. 
Now,  then,  ere  travelling  homeward,  I  proclaim 
To  all  thy  people  and  their  land  this  league 
Solemnized  by  mine  oath  for  evermore  ; 
No  prince  or  potentate  of  Argive  land 
Shall  marshal  hitherward  the  semed  war. 
Which  bond  if  any  break  in  the  after-time, 
I,  then  within  my  grave,  will  vex  him  sore 
\Vith  strange  disasters  hard  to  overbear. 
Crossing  such  enterprise  with   omens  dire 
To  balk  his  passage,  turning  all  his  toils 


222  THE  EUMENIDES  [77 1-S02 

To  bitterness  of  soul.     But  while  they  keep 

And  honour  this  my  league  with  Pallas'  town 

In  firm  alliance,  they  themselves  shall  feel 

The  favour  of  my  spirit.     Now,  farewell, 

Athena,  fare  ye  well  that  hold  her  town. 

Still  be  your  battle  fatal  to  all  foes. 

Bringing  to  Athens  glory  and  safety  too  !  [Exit 

Cho.  Ah  !     Ah  !  II 

Young  gods,  ye  have  ridden  down  mine  ancient  right ; 

Ye  have  torn  from  out  my  hand 
The  meed  of  honour.     WTierefore  with  fell  spite 

Biding  to  plngue  your  land 
(Woe  for  mine  honour  lost  !)  all-hapless  I 

From  spirit's  inmost  core 

\Vill  send  the  empoisoned  gore, 
Venom  of  vengeance,  dripping  banefully. 

Whence  issuing  forth  amain 

Over  the  sterile  plain 
A  cankerous  growth  shall  cover  all  the  land  ; 

No  blade  shall  spring,  no  child  ; 

But  feuds  unreconciled 
Stamp  the  hard  soil  with  life-destroying  brand. 

To  Justice  I  complain. 

Still,  still  shall  I  remain 
With  plagues  unbearable  to  vex  their  town. 

Ah  !     Ah ! 

Hard  truly  is  our  doom, 

Daughters  of  primal  gloom, 
Cruelly  wronged  and  barred  from  bright  renown. 

Ath.  Hearken  to  me.     Be  not  so  grievous  wroth. 
Ye  are  not  vanquished,  for  the  votes  were  even, 
Honestly  given,  not  meant  to  slight  your  worth. 
But  the  clear  evidence  of  Zeus  was  there. 
Witnessed  by  him  who  spake  the  prophecy, 
Orestes  should  be  scathlcss  for  this  deed. 
Then  give  not  way  to  anger,  nor  inflict 
On  Athens  the  dire  outcome  of  your  hate. 
In  all  her  fields  causing  sterility 
Through  rank  effusion  of  a  baleful  dew, 


Sos-Sssi  THE  EUMENIDES  223 

Showering  sharp  influence  of  malignant  power, 

Withering  all  germens  with  unkindiy  drops. 

For  I  ma'je  promise  absolute  and  sure, 

Ye  shall  have  glorious  shrines  and  altar-places. 

And  shelter  underground,  in  this  just  land. 

High  throned,  and  earning  homage  of  this  people. 

Cho.  Ah  !     Ah  !  12 

Young  gods,  ye  have  ridden  down  mine  ancient  right ; 

Ye  have  torn  from  out  my  hand 
The  meed  of  honour.     Wherefore  with  fell  spite 

Biding  to  plague  your  land 
(Woe  for  mine  honour  lost !)  all-hapless  I 

From  spirit's  inmost  core 

Will  send  the  empoisoned  gore. 
Venom  of  vengeance,  dripping  banefuUy. 

Whence  issuing  forth  amain 

Over  the  sterile  plain 
A  cankerous  growth  shall  cover  all  the  land ; 

No  blade  shall  spring,  no  child  ; 

But  feuds  unreconciled 
Stamp  the  hard  soil  with  life-destroying  brand. 

To  Justice  I  complain. 

Still,  still  shall  I  remain 
With  plagues  unbearable  to  vex  their  town. 

Ah!     Ah! 

Hard  truly  is  our  doom. 

Daughters  of  primal  gloom. 
Cruelly  WTonged  and  barred  from  bright  renown. 

Ath.  Y"e  are  not  disgraced,  then  do  not,  being  divine, 
JIake  barren  for  poor  mortals  their  deep  soil. 
On  Zeus  I  fix  reliance.     WTiy  say  more  ? 
I  only  of  the  Olympian  powers  can  use 
The  key  that  opes  the  close-sealed  treasure-house 
Wherein  the  lightning-bolts  are  stored  away. 
Yet  shall  they  not  be  needful.     Thou  wilt  yield 
To  kind  persuasion,  and  not  launch  the  curse 
Of  barrenness  on  all  fruit-bearing  things. 
Lull  the  dark  billows  of  thy  bitter  mood 
To  share  mine  honours  and  my  dwelling-place  ; 


224  THE  EUMENIDE3  [834-869 

And  thou  shalt  find,  as  thy  first-fruits  come  in 
From  this  wide  region,  both  of  marriage  dues 
And  child-birth  offerings,  good  cause  to  bless 
Eternally  this  utterance  of  my  tongue. 

Cho.  Woe  !  for  my  grievous  wrong  !  II  1 

This  time-outwearied  heart  to  dwell  in  gloom, 
Unhonoured  and  abhorred  ! 
I  pant  with  fury,  breathing  nought  but  hate. 
O  Earth,  Earth,  Earth  !  woe  !  woe  ! 
\Miat  inward  pang  is  shooting  through  my  breast  ? 
O  mother  Night,  hear  thou  our  anger's  voice  ! 
Our  ancient  honour  and  prerogative 
Gods  with  their  crafty  wiles  have  crushed  to  nought. 

Ath.  I  will  seek  to  soothe  your  rage  ;  ye  are  elder 

far. 
Yet  though  ye  are  older  and  more  sage  than  I, 
Me,  too,  hath  Zeus  made  wise  in  my  degree. 
Then  hear  my  warning.     Passing  hence  abroad 
Ye  will  feel  passionate  longing  for  this  land. 
For  to  these  citizens  in  time  to  come 
The  tide  of  glory  shall  not  ebb.     And  ye, 
Seated  in  state  Jacside  Erechtheus'  dome, 
From  crowds  of  men  and  women  shall  receive 
I\Iore  than  ye  could  from  all  the  world  beside. 
But  lay  not  on  the  region  of  my  choice 
Bloody  incitements,  marring  spirits  of  youth. 
Maddening    tlieir    minds    with    fumes,     but    not    of 

wine  ; 
Nor  pricking  them  at  heart  like  fighting-cocks 
Goad  them  to  fury  of  intestine  broils, 
Kin  daring  kin  to  the  utterance  in  set  fight. 
War  from  without  is  ready  (and  welcome  be  it !) 
To  kindle  man's  dread  passion  for  renown. 
But  let  my  birds  be  tame  at  home,  say  I. 
Such  noble  gifts  are  thine  to  accept  from  me. 
That,  blessing,  blest  and  worshipped,  thou  shouldst 

dwell. 
My  partner  in  this  Heaven-protected  land. 


8C7-908]  THE  EUMENIDES  225 

Cho.  Woe  !  for  my  grievous  wrong  !  11  2 

This  time-outwearied  heart  to  dwell  in  gloom, 
Unhonoured  and  abhorred  ! 
I  pant  with  fury,  breathing  nought  but  hat«. 
O  Earth,  Earth,  Earth  !  woe  !  woe  ! 
What  inward  pang  is  shooting  through  my  breast  ? 
O  mother  Night,  hear  thou  our  anger's  voice  ! 
Our  ancient  honour  and  prerogative, 
Goda  with  their  crafty  wiles  have  crushed  to  nought. 

Ath.  I  will  not  weary  telling  you  of  good ; 
Lest  ye  should  say  that  I,  younger  in  birth, 
Had  chased  with  scorn  your  elder  deities  ; 
And  this  my  peopile,  a  firm-stablished  race, 
From  their  fair  city  had  rejected  you. 
If  aught  you  reverence  sweet  Persuasion's  power, 
Or  my  tongue's  mildness  soften  you  at  all, 
You  will  bide  here :  but  if  you  will  not  stay, 
You  will  not  justly  send  upon  this  town 
Vengeance  or  spite,  nor  plague  her  populace, 
Since  with  full  rights  and  honours  unimpaired, 
'Tis  yours  to  dwell  and  have  your  portion  here. 

Cho.  Athena,  tell,  what  portion  shall  we  have  ? 

Ath.  One  freed  from  all  annoy.     Reject  it  not. 

Cho.  Say  I  receive  it.     Then,  what  dues  are  mine  7 

Ath,  Xo  home  without  thee  shall  be  fortunate. 

Cho.  Wilt  thou  secure  me  such  authority  ? 

Ath.  Prospering  all  fortunes  for  thy  worshippers. 

Cho.  Wilt  thou  assure  this  for  all  time  to  come  ? 

Ath.  Why  should  I  promise,  if  I  would  not  pay  ? 

Cho.  I  feel  thou  art  moving  me.     My  rage  subsides. 

Ath.  You  will  stay  and  win  affection  in  this  land  ? 

Cho.    Then   wouklst   thou    have    me    chant    mine 
auspices  ? 

Ath.  Chant,  if  you  sing  the  triumph  of  all  good. 
Chant  of  sweet  airs  that  from  the  earth  and  sea 
And  breathed  from  Heaven  beneath  a  wholesome  sup 
Visit  this  land.     Chant  of  rich  harvest  days, 
Of  cattle  never  failing  to  bring  forth. 
Of  foison  with  the  seasons  multiphed, 

117  _ 


226  THE  EmiENIDES  [909-938 

Of  human  generations  sound  and  ■whole  ! 

I,  hke  a  prudent  gardener,  desire 

No  blight  to  oppress  my  rigliteous  nurslings  here. 

Such  are  your  dues.     And  in  the  heat  of  war 

WTiere  honours  thicken,  I  will  evermore 

Crown  with  new  triumph  this  world-conquering  State. 

Chorus. 
I  give  consent  to  dwell  with  Pallas  here,  I  1 

Nor  scorn  the  sacred  race. 
Whose  town  high  Zeus  and  he  who  guides  the  spear 

Have  chosen,  their  holy  place, 
Stronghold  of  heavenly  powers,  to  Grecian  gods  most 

dear. 
Guard  of  all  altars,  on  whose  life  I  pray. 

With  gentlest  augury, 
Kind  Helios  still  may  shed  his  brightest  ray. 

Trebling  prosperity. 
Still  gendering  from  the  ground  new  comfort  each  new 
day. 

Ath.  In  my  zeal  for  the  men  of  this  to\\Ti,  with  these 

Powers  ever  hard  to  entreat 
I  make  league  and  establish  them  here,  in  a  gloomy 

and  awful  retreat. 
For  o'er  all  that  is  human  they  wield  a  majestic  and 

fatal  control. 
And  the  man  that  hath  felt  not  their  anger  a  burdenoua 

weight  on  his  soul, 
Knoweth  nought  of  the  springs  of  disaster :  his  sins 

of  the  past  have  in  charge 
To  hale  him   before  these  for  judgement ;   yea  even 

while  he  seemeth  at  large. 
And  is  high-voiced  in  vaunting,  the  engine  of  wrathful 

destruction,  at  hand. 
Waits  in  silence  to  grind  him  to  powder,  and  sweep 

him  away  from  the  land. 

Cho.  No    blighting    blast  shall    breathe   upon    the 
trees,  1  ^ 

Such  boon  my  bounty  yields, 


939-974]  THE  EUMENIDES  227 

No  mildew  come  to  check  the  grain's  increase 

Invading  their  tilled  fields  ; 
No  dire  abortive  influence  waste  them  with  disease  I 
But  life-supporting  Earth  in  season  due 

Still  without  fail  shall  bear 
The  grazing  flocks,  each  early-teeming  ewe 

Graced  with  her  eanling  pair, 
V\'hile  gold  from   Earth's  own  womb  shall   God-sent 
wealth  declare. 

Ath.  Have  ye  heard,  O  ye  guardians  of  Athens,  what 
destiny  lives  in  that  sound  ? 

For  the  voice  of  Erinys  hath  power  both  in  Heaven  and 
with  gods  underground. 

And  to  some  she  makes  life  ever  joyous  and  loud  with 
the  thanksgiving  hymn. 

While  for  others  the  light  is  o'erclouded,  with  heart- 
broken weeping  made  dim. 

Cho.  Untimely  violent  deaths  be  far  from  hence,    II 1 

Cull  not  this  people's  flower  ; 
And  grant,  ye  gods  appointed  to  dispense 

Riches  from  Hymen's  dower. 
Men  to  fair  maids,  well  suited  each  to  other, 
Grant  it,  dread  Fates,  own  sisters  of  our  mother, 
Ye  that  o'er  every  home  wield  righteous  power — 

With  ever  worshipped  sway 
Pressing  on  mortal  life  from  hour  to  hour 

From  burdened  day  to  day, — 
Honoured  above  all  gods  in  your  unswerving  sway. 

Ath,  I  am  gladdened  to  think  that  your  land  hath 
these  destinies  fixed  by  their  zeal. 

And  I  give  to  the  power  of  Persuasion  heart-affluent 
thanks,  for  I  feel 

She  has  ruled  my  discourse  and  my  converse  towards 
these  who  were  stubbornly  bent 

To  repel  all  advance.  But  high  Zeus  hath  his  town- 
shielding  augury  lent. 

Reinforcing  the  cause  that  was  righteous.  Thus  ever 
for  good  we  conspire 


228  THE  EUMENIDES  [974-1005 

And  ever  prevail  in  that  strife, — the  Olympian  daughter 
and  sire. 

Cho.  Far,  too,  from  hence  be  heard  the  ravenous 
roar  II  2 

Of  wild-beast  Faction's  voice : 
Let  not  the  darkening  dust,  drinking  red  gore 

Of  citizens,  rejoice 
In  wreaking  death  for  death,  new  vengeance  sowing  I 
But  ever  may  the  gonial  interflowing 
Of  mirth  for  mirth,  kindness  for  kindness,  fill 

All  souls  within  the  state. 
With  unanimity  of  mild  good  will, 

And  tirm  harmonious  hate. 
Full  many  a  public  ill  that  medicine  shall  abata 

Ath.  Perceive   ye   the   path   of  their   counsel,    the 

wisdom  that  flows  from  their  tongue  ? 
Great  gain  from  these  terribleFormswill  be  yours  when, 

3'-our  temples  among. 
Their  countenance  looks  on  your  city.     While  ye  shall 

with  loyalty  cling 
To  their  worship,   and  load  them  with  honour,   the 

blessings  their  bounty  shall  bring 
Will  exalt  you.     Your  city  and  nation  will  shine  to 

the  world  through  all  time, 
As  the  lovers  and  doers  of  ju.stice,  the  foes  and  avoiders 

of  crime. 

Cho.     Hail,  all  hail  !     ]\Iay  all  your  store        III  1 
Fit  your  need  for  evermore. 
People  of  the  favoured  town 
Nestled  'ueath  the  sheltering  down 
Of  Pallas'  wings  !     Her  mighty  ISire 
Regards  your  shield  and  checks  his  ire. 
Timely  have  ye  ta'en  your  part 
With  'the  daughter  of  his  heart. 

Ath.  All  hail  to  you  likewise  !     Behoves  that  I  lead 
you  and  point  you  the  road 
To  your  chamber  of  lasting  repose,  lighted  on  to  that 
solemn  abode 


1006-1031]         THE  EUMENIDE3  229 

By  this   train  of  your  holy  conductors.      Then  while 

we  do  sacrifice  here 
Go,  and  passing  beneath,  be  ye  watchful  henceforth  in 

each  onset  of  fear 
To  keep  under  all  harm  for  the  land,  and  send  forth 

for  the  got)d  of  my  town 
All  advantage  that  tends  to  true  honour,  and  ends  in 

triumphant  renown. 
Then,  ye  children  of  Cranaiis,  dwellers  in  Athens,  con- 
duct the  new  band 
That   receives   now   and  renders   protection,    abiding 

henceforth  in  your  land. 
Last,  I  pray  that  for  ever  henceforward  the  strain  of 

my  citizens'  thought 
May  be  holy,  and  steeped  in  all  virtue,  and  issue  in 

good  as  it  ought. 

Cno.  Hail,  all  hail, — we  say  it  again, —  III  2 

Holy  powers  and  mortal  men, 
All  that  hold  the  blessed  town 
Which  Athena's  glories  crown  1 
For  while  our  presence  ye  revere 
In  our  new  home  established  here, 
All  your  hap  that  is  to  be 
Shall  be  pure  prosperity, 
[The  ceremonial  follows,  with  prayer  and  incense 

Ath.    My    heart     approves     the     tenor     of     those 
prayers. 
And  now  by  flaming  torchlight  I  will  lead  you 
To  your  appointed  place  below  the  ground, 
With  these  attendants,  whose  religious  cara 
Preserves  mine  image.     To  the  central  spot 
Of  all  the  land  of  Theseus,  a  fair  troop, 
Boys,  maids,  and  aged  matrons,  shall  arrive 
Robed  in  rich  vestments  all  of  purple  grain. 
Advance  the  torch-flame  and  illume  the  way. 
That  this  new  company  henceforth  may  dwell 
Propitious  here,  and  make  this  counrry  great. 

[The  procession  is  formed 


230  THE  EUMEXIDES         [1032-1047 

Attendants.  Come  home,  this  way  come,  I  1 

Great  children  of  darkness,  aye  childless,  descend  to 

congenial  gloom  ! 
The  tribute  of  worship  ye  long  for  is  firmly  secured 
here  above. 

And  we  lead  you  with  love. 
Hekald.  Hush  ! 
Keep  silence,  ye  folk,  one  and  all ! 

Attend,  Come  away,  come  away  !  I  2 

In  primaeval  recesses  of  Earth  ye  shall  hide  from  im- 
portunate Day — 
Where  hallowed  with  worship  and  homage,  and  savour 
of  sacrifice  slain, 

Ye  for  aye  shall  remain. 
Her.  All  ye  people,  be  hushed  at  my  call  ! 

Attend.  Then  come,ye  dread  powcrs,kind  and  faith- 
ful to  Athens,  nor  waken  to  wrath  ;  II  I 
Come  hither,  be  cheered  by  the  flame,  pine-consuming, 
that  lightens  your  path. 

Her.  Shout,  ye  folk,  a  new  age  hath  begun  I 

Attend.  Torch-illumined  libations  henceforward  the 
people  of  Pallas  shall  bring  II  2 

To  your  dwelling — so  Fate  hath  made  compact  with 
Zeus  the  Olympian  King. 

Her.  Shout,  ye  people,  the  chanting  is  done  1 


PROMETHEUS   BOUND 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DRAMA 

{All  swperhuman). 
Power  and  Violence.     The  latter  does  not  speak. 
Hephaestus. 
Prometheus. 

Chorus  of  Ocean  Nymphs. 
Oceanus. 
lo. 
Eebt/ies. 

The  ScEifE  is  in  a  rocky  -n-ilderness  to  the  north  of 
Scythia. 

TuiE — Primaeval. 


Ik  the  Oresteian  trilogy  the  wild  justice  of  the  early 
world  has  given  place  to  Equity  under  the  jurisdiction  of 
Athena  and  her  Areopagites.  Through  her  civihzing  in- 
fluence the  very  nature  of  those  ancient  goddesses,  the 
Erinyes,  has  been  modified,  and  they  are  now  the  Eumenides, 
a  beneficent,  not  a  destructive  power.  This  may  prepare 
us  for  a  further  reach  of  imagination,  viz.  the  bold  sugges- 
tion thftt  Zeus  himself  had  not  always  been  the  beneficent 
equitable  ruler  in  whom  the  Athenians  believed,  but  had 
learned  wisdom  through  experience.  Aeschylus  figures  to 
himself  a  time  of  spiritual  chaos,  in  which  not  only  the  ele- 
mental passions  of  humanity,  but  the  very  elements  of  deity, 
were  not  yet  harmonized,  but  conflicting.  He  is  thus 
enabled  more  impressively  to  make  it  felt  that  it  is  in  the 
union  of  power  and  wisdom,  of  energy  and  beneficence,  that 
true  Godhead,  the  impersonation  of  Righteousness,  consists. 

In  attempting  to  give  expression  to  this  thought,  he  was 
assisted  by  some  mythologies,  which  told  that  in  the  supremo 
region  there  had  formerly  been  change  and  succession. 
Xay,  it  was  whispered,  as  in  the  myth  of  Prometheus,  that 
Zeus  had  once  been  a  malignant  ruler.  That  dim  tradition 
was  the  outcome  of  an  age  when  men's  conception  of  the 
Highest  had  been  a  creature  of  their  fear.  ^Ye  know  from 
the  story  of  ilycerinus,  and  from  the  words  of  Solon  in 
Herodotus,  i.  32  ('  God  is  envious  and  loves  to  make  con- 
fusion '),  that  such  notions  had  been  powerful  in  earlier 
times,  and  had  been  revived  and  accentuated  by  Ionian 
pessimism.  The  legend  of  Prometheus  (whatever  may  have 
been  its  origin)  conveyed  the  superstitious  dread  with  which 
a  rude  conservatism  regarded  the  inventor,  as  one  who  by 
sheer  force  of  mind  transcends  the  appointed  hmits  of  the 
human  lot,  and  makes  the  divine  powers  of  nature  sub- 
eervient  to  the  wants  of  mortals.  But  the  legend,  so 
conceived,  imphed  a  stage  of  culture  which  the  Athenian 
imagination,  immature  as  it  still  was  in  some  respects, 
had  far  outgrown.  And  Aeschylus  tells  his  spectators  in 
effect,  '  This  happened,  indeed,  but  under  an  earher  dis- 
pensation. And  it  involved  a  contrariety  which  could  not 
last.     For  Power  rejecting  Wisdom  must  come  to  nought, 


233 

and  Wisdom  rebelling  against  Power  is  fettered  and  mana- 
cled. Omnipotence,  to  be  eternal,  must  be  at  one  with 
wisdom  and  beneficence  ;  in  a  word,  must  be  just.  And 
because  power,  alone  and  unaccompanied,  is  brittle  and 
transient,  wisdom  and  beneficence  are  co-eternal  witii 
almighty  Power.' 

The  old  fable  is  therefore  now  recast  as  follows  : — '  There 
was  a  time  when  the  authority  of  Zeus  was  not  yet  finally 
secured.  In  accordance  with  the  presage  of  Themis, 
Goddess  of  Pwight,  Zeus  the  son  of  Cronos  had  subdued 
the  Anarchs  of  the  Past,  not  by  brute  violence,  but  by  the 
help  of  Forethought,  which  the  Titans  had  despised.  But 
having  won  the  heavenly  throne,  he  was  liable  to  the  disease 
ot  self-will  that  is  naturally  incident  to  every  irresponsible 
ruler,  and  began  to  exercise  his  power  without  regard  to 
the  wisdom  which  had  gained  it  for  him  ;  while  towards 
mortals  he  exhibited  an  excessive  harshness.  But  to  these 
courses  the  irrepressible  spirit  of  Wisdom  was  opposed,  and, 
in  spite  of  Zeus,  succeeded  in  obtaining  gifts  for  men. 

'  So  long  as  the  struggle  lasted,  the  sovereignty  of  Zeus 
was  imperilled.  And  thus  the  Fates  were  heard  to  whisper. 
On  the  other  hand,  had  the  opposition  remained.  Wisdom 
must  have  been  held  in  lasting  bonds. 

'  But  Wisdom  knew  the  secret  word,  which  solitary 
Power  had  failed  to  apprehend,  and  Necessity  at  last  made 
Power  submit  to  learn  the  truth  from  Wisdom.  Thus  Zeus 
was  saved  from  fatal  error,  and  his  reign  thenceforward 
became  identical  with  that  growth  of  Justice  in  the  world 
which  must  ultimately  subdue  all  moral  discord.' 

In  dramatic  contrast  to  the  principal  figure,  and  helping 
to  draw  out  the  gentleness  which  accompanies  his  strength, 
are  the  daughters  of  Oceanus  (sisters  of  his  wife  Hesionfe), 
who  come  to  visit  him  ;  and  lo,  the  ancestress  of  Heracles 
his  future  deUverer,  and  the  female  victim  of  the  oppression 
and  caprice  of  Zeus.  As  the  daughter  of  Inachus,  the 
river-god,  she  is  also  near  of  kin  to  the  Oceanides,  These 
persons,  and  also  that  of  Oceanus  himself  on  his  '  four- 
footed  bird,'  give  occasion  for  various  excursions  into  the 
region  of  mythological  geography,  in  which  the  Athenians 
01  the  age  preceding  Pericles  manifestly  took  great  delight. 
And  although  these  episodes  delay  the  action,  the  grand 
manner  in  which  Aeschylus  unfolds  them  has  an  undjnng 
charm.     The  same  motive  was  repeated  in  the  Prometheus 


234 

Unbound,  where  Prometheus  foretold  the  wanderings  of 
Heracles.  But  we  miss  the  concentrated  passion  of  the 
Choephoroe,  and  feel,  in  reading  ttiia  drama,  as  if  we  were 
thrown  back  upon  an  earher  phase  of  art.  It  woi:Id  be 
rash,  however,  to  conclude  from  this  that  the  Promethean 
trilogy  was  composed  before  the  Oresteia.  It  is  precisely 
in  dealing  with  the  superhuman  that  high  poetry,  from 
Homer  to  ililton,  has  been  apt  to  flag  and  falter,  and  if  the 
Prometheus  Bound  does  savour  here  and  there  rather  of 
the  Morality  or  Mystery  than  of  Tragedy  proper,  it  was 
hardly  to  be  expected  that  the  great  advance  made  in 
grappUng  with  the  horrors  of  the  House  of  Atreus  should 
be  evenly  maintained  when  the  poet  entered  on  a  wholly 
different  sphere. 

Nor  is  it  to  be  supposed  that  the  taste  of  the  Athenian 
audience  could  be  maintained  at  the  height  of  tragic 
sympathy  to  which  Cassandra,  Cl\i:einnestra,  and  Electra 
had  for  the  moment  raised  it.  The  plot  of  the  Eumenidea 
shows  that  there  was  still  an  element  of  puerility,  if  not  of 
childishness,  in  the  popular  fancy  to  which  the  soaring 
mind  of  Aeschylus  had  to  appeal,  in  .ill  probability  the 
grounds  of  the  reconcilement  between  Zeus  and  Prometheus 
were  not  less  archaic,  and,  if  the  Prometheus  Unbound 
of  Aeschylus  had  been  preserved,  would  have  proved 
equally  disappointing  to  the  modern  reader. 


PEOMETHEUS   BOUND 

Power,  (Violexce),  Hephaestus. 

Pow.  We  are  come  to  Earth's  far  limit — to  a  land 
Untrodden,  save  by  wandering  Scythians, 
A  lifeless  wilderness.     Fire-god  !  'tis  thins 
To  execute  the  mandate  of  our  sire 
And  yoke  this  felon  to  yon  beetUng  cliff, 
Pinned  fast  in  adamantine  bonds.     Thy  pride, 
Fire, — sovran  secret  of  all  arts, — he  stole 
And  lavished  on  frail  mortals.     Such  the  sin 
Wierefor  he  must  receive  Heaven's  recompense. 
That  he  may  learn  to  accept  the  almighty  sway 
Of  Zeus,  and  cease  befriending  humankind. 

Heph.  O  Power  and  Violence,  your  charge  from  Zeus 
Is  all  accomplished,  and  your  path  is  clear : 
But  I  am  full  of  heaviness.     My  heart 
Shrinks  from  this  task, — to  bind  a  kindi'ed  god 
With  violent  hand  to  yon  storm-cloven  ravine  ! 
Yet  must  I  steel  my  spirit  to  this  deed  : 
Slackness  is  dangerous  where  Zeus  commands. 
Deep-thoughted  son  of  Themis  wise  in  heart, 
Against  my  will  and  thine,  with  fetters  forged 
Indissolubly,  shall  I  nail  thee  here 
To  a  man-forsaken  crag.     No  human  voice 
Nor  form  shall  greet  thee  :  but  the  Sun's  pure  beam 
Shall  bake  and  blacken  thine  all-radiant  bloom. 
That  when  the  star-enrobed  Night  shall  hide 
Heaven's  holy  light,  glad  shalt  thou  be  :  and  glad 
\^lien  HeUos  dries  the  rimy  dews  of  dawn  : — 
Still  wearied  with  the  stress  of  present  woe. 
For  none  hath  being  who  shall  comfort  thee. 
Such  fruit  thou  reapest  from  befriending  man, 
Daring  the  wrath  of  thine  own  race  divine. 


238  PROMETHEUS  BOUND  [30-63 

To  men  thou  gavest  rights  beyond  their  due. 

Wherefore  thou  still  shalt  guard  this  joyless  glen, 

A  dieary  sentinel,  ne'er  bending  knee, 

Erect  and  sleepless.     Many  a  piteous  moan 

And  many  a  deep-dra^vn  sigh  shall  sound  from  thee 

Bootless  ;  for  Zeus  is  deaf  to  intercession, 

And  young  in  power  is  ever  harsh  in  will. 

Pow.  Well,  then,  why  be  compassionate  and  dwell 
On  vain  procrastination  ?     Why  not  hate 
The  god  most  hateful  to  all  gods,  who  gave 
By  treason  your  bright  glory  to  frail  men  ? 

Heph.  Kindred  and  comradeship  have  fearful  power. 

Pow.  I  grant  ye.     But  more  fearful  'tis  to  spurn 
Our  father's  bidding.     Tremble  and  obey  ! 

He?h.  Thou  art  ever  ruthless  and  o'er-confident. 

Pow.  Lamenting  him  availeth  not  to  save. 
Trouble  not  thyself,  where  trouble  is  all  in  vain. 

Heph.  Mysterious  handicraft,  O  how  I  hate  thee  ! 

Pow.  Why  hate  your  mystery  ?     To  phrase  it  clear, 
Your  craft  is  blameless  for  your  toil  to  day. 

Heph.  Kowbeit,  1  would  it  never  had  been  mine, 

Pow.  All  lots  are  hard,  but  to  be  King  of  Heaven : 
The  rest  are  bondslaves — Zeus  alone  is  free. 

Heph.  This  errand  proves  it.     I  am  dumb. 

Pow.  Go  to ! 

Enring  him  with  his  fetters,  lest  our  lord 
Spy  thee  neglecting  his  command. 

Heph.  Behold ! 

His  armlets  here  are  ready. 

Pow.  Take  them,  and 

With  mighty  sledge-hammer  smite  them  around 
His  elbows  ;  rivet  him  fast  to  the  rock. 

Heph.  That  work  proceeds,  nor  is  it  idly  done. 

Pow.  Beat  harder,  pinch  him  tight,  leave  nothing 
loose : 
He'd  find  his  way  out  at  an  auger -hole. 

Heph.  This  arm  is  fast  bej'ond  all  conjuring  forth. 

Pow.  Now  clasp  the  other  no  less  firm  ;  tiiat  he 
May  know  his  wisdom  feebler  than  our  Sire's. 

Heph.  None  but  Prometheus  can  find  fault  with  me. 


64-95]  PROMETHEUS  BOUND  237 

Pow.  Now  then,  with  all  thy  might  drive  through 
his  chest 
The  fierce  tusk  of  the  adamantine  wedge. 

Heph.  Alas  !  I  groan,  Prometheus,  for  thy  pain. 

Pow.  Again  thou  shrinkest,  and  for  Heaven's  foe 
Dost  groan.  Thou'lt  pity  thine  own  case  one  day. 
Beware  ! 

Heph.  And  can  thine  eye  behold  this  sight  ? 

Pow.  I  see  a  rebel  reaping  his  deserts. 
Come,  put  the  girths  about  his  ribs. 

Heph.  I  must ! 

What  needs  thy  vehemence  ? 

Pow.  ril  use  it  though, 

And  hound  thee,  too,  with  cries.     Go  down  and  ring 
His  ankles,  laying  force  upon  his  legs. 

Heph.  'Tis  done.     That   called   for   no    protracted 
toil. 

Pow.  Now  clinch  with  mighty  strokes  the  rivet-bolts, 
A  rigid  overseer  o'erlooks  thy  work. 

Heph.  Grim  as  thy  form  is  the  utterance  of  thy 
tongue. 

Pow.  Melt  thou,  an'  if  thou  must ;  but  chide  not  me 
For  my  harsh  mood  and  unrelenting  mind. 

Heph.  His  limbs  have  all  their  casings.     Let  us  go. 

Pow.   (to  Pp.om.)  There  vent  thine  insolence,  and 
reaving  gods 
Of  rights,  bestow  them  on  brief -dated  man  ! 
^^^lich  of  thy  woes  can  mortal  men  relieve  ? 
'  Fore-thinker  '  art  thou  falsely  named  in  Heaven, 
Since  here  thou  hast  need  of  one  to  think  for  thee. 
How  to  unwind  the  coil  bj'  art  made  sure. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Peometheus 

Prom.  Ether  of  Heaven  and  Winds  untired  of  wing. 
Rivers,  whose  fountains  fail  not,  and  thou  Sea, 
Laughing  in  waves  innumerable  !     O  Earth, 
All-Mother  ! — Yea,  and  on  the  Sun  I  call. 
Whose  orb  scans  all  things  ; — look  on  me  and  see 
How  I,  a  god,  am  wronged  by  gods.     Behold 

How  torn  with  outrage  here  1  must  remain 

Through  countless  ages  wrestling  against  pain. 


2S8  PROMETHEUS  BOUND  [96-127 

Such  means  iniquitous  to  hold  me  bound 

Hath  this  new  ruler  of  the  immortals  found. 

Ay  me  ! 

Woes  that  are  here,  and  woes  that  are  to  come 

Afflict  my  spirit.     Vast,  unending  gloom  ! 

\^Tiat  light  shall  bring  a  Umit  to  my  doom  ? 
What  am  I  saying  ?     All  is  known  to  me, 
All,  all  that  is  to  be  ; — nor  with  fresh  smart 
Shall  one  pang  smite  me.     Then  let  me  endure 
My  destiny  as  I  may,  knowinc;  that  none 
May  e'er  bid  battle  to  Necessity. 
Yet  how  be  silent  o'er  my  lot  ?     How  speak 
What  is  befallen  ?     Because  I  gave  to  men 
Gifts  claimed  of  gods,  I  am  bound  in  durance  Iiere. 
Charging  therewith  the  hollow  of  a  reed, 
I  caught,  by  stealth,  of  fire  a  secret  spring, 
Tliat  proved  a  boon  full  of  resource  for  men, 
Best  tutor  in  all  arts.     For  such  offence 
This  punishment  ineffable  I  bear. 
Fast  riveted  in  bonds  beneath  the  sky. 

Ah  !  Ah  !     ^\^lat  is  here  ? 

What  sound  this  way  wafted,  what  odour  unseen. 

Hath  reached  me,  from  gbd,  man,  or  nature  between  ? 

Who  to  this  craggy  bourne  of  the  world  can  have 
come 

Bent  to  view  my  distress,  or  how  moved  here  to 
roam  ? 
Ye  see  me  prisoned  here,  a  god  ill-starred, 
Of  Zeus  the  enemy,  hated  of  all 
That  tread  the  courts  of  his  omnipotence, 
Because  of  mine  exceeding  love  for  men. 

Av  me  !     Again 

\\'liat  rustling  of  pinions,  what  wide-hovering  bird, 

One    or    more,    is    at    hand,    that    great    Ether    la 
stirred 

With  soft  whuring  of  plumes  ?     I  am  shaken  with 

fear 
At  each  moving  thing  that  comes  near. 


128-162]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  239 

Chokus  {entering  above). 
Nay,  fear  us  not !     With  love  we  near  thy  scaur,      I  1 
In  eager-winged  car. 

Vying  in  fleetness  with  the  following  wind 
That  with  kind  convoy  sped  me  fast  and  far. 
Since  deep  within  our  cave  the  echoed  clang 
Of  smitten  steel  amazed  us  as  it  rang. 
Scaring  demure-eyed  shame,  that  forth  we  flew. 
Hardly  prevailing  on  our  father's  mind, 
Unsandalled. 

Prom.  Ali  !  ye  children  ever  true 

Of  plenteous-teeming  Tethys,  and  of  him 
WTio  enrings  the  land  with  ever-rolling  rim. 
Unaltered  from  of  old. 
Ocean,  unwearied  Father  : — look  !  behold 
How,  clasped  to  towering  cliffs  with  fetters  hard. 
O'er  this  ravine  I  mount  unenvied  guard. 

Cho.  I  see,  Prometheus,  and  a  mist  of  tears,         I  2 
Exhaled  from  tender  fears. 

Hath  filled  mine  eyes,  when  I  behold  thy  form 
Thus  withering  in  the  sun-glare  and  the  storm, 
To  that  bare  cliff  with  bonds  of  insult  tied: 
Since  new  be  they  that  guide 
The  heavenly  helm  ;  Zeus  with  uncouth  decreea 
Old  ordinance  hath  altered  at  his  ease. 
And  hoary  might  he  hath  cruelly  defied. 

Pkom.  Would  he  had  hurled  me  far  below  the  ground 
Beyond  dark  Pluto's  realm,  where  ghosts  abound, 
To  utmost  Tartarus'  unfathomed  gloom. 
How  savagely  soe'er,  with  changeless  doom  ! 
There,  out  of  sight  and  mind,  I  were  exempt 

From  Heaven  and  Earth's  contempt. 
Now,  swung  aloft,  an  elemental  toy, 
Each  pang  I  suffer  gives  mine  enemy  joy. 

Cho.  Lives  in  all  Heaven  one  so  hard  of  heart     II  1 
To  joy  at  what  we  see  ? 
What  spirit  doth  not  feehngly  take  part 
With  thy  deep  misery  ? 


240  PROMETHEUS  BOUND         [163-198 

Save  Zeus,  who  pitilessly  still 
Fixing  on  ■WTath  his  furious  will 
Subdues  the  race  of  Heaven  ;  nor  will  he  cease. 
Till  sated  with  destruction  he  find  ease. 
Or  some  one,  by  a  strange  unlooked-for  blow. 
His  sovran  power  impregnable  o'erthrow. 

Prom.  Ay,  though  he  be  Heaven's  potentate,  and  I 
Limb-fettered  in  stern  bonds  remorselessly. 
Yet  shall  he  need  mine  aid  to  bring  to  hght 
The  plot  that  reaves  from  him  his  boasted  right. 
But  neither  honey-tongued  persuasive  charm, 
Nor  all  the  scathing  terrors  of  his  arm 
Shall  bring  me  to  reveal  it,  till  he  choose 
From  these  heart-galling  bonds  my  limbs  to  loose, 
And  recompense  my  soul-dishonouring  harm. 

Cho.  Thou    yieldest    nought   to    pain    and    bitter 
wrong,  II  2 

And  of  thy  speech  art  free, — 
Too  free  of  speech,  contending  with  the  strong  I 

But  dread  hath  seized  on  me. 
Piercing  my  heart  with  anxious  fears, 
Where  in  the  waste  of  countless  years 
Thou  shalt  see  land  and  bring  thy  bark  to  shore. 
For  who  may  nerve  his  spirit  to  implore 
The  heart  of  Zeus  ;  what  voyager  may  find 
The  undiscovered  pathway  to  his  mind  ? 

Pkom.  I  know  him  ruthless,  measuring  right  and 
good 
Ever  by  what  he  wills ;  yet  shall  his  mood 
Be  softened,  when  this  blow  shall  break  him  down. 

Then  shall  the  settled  frown 
Be  smoothed  upon  his  brow  to  gentle  peace  ; 

Then  shall  his  anger  cease. 
And  both  our  hearts,  that  after  vengeance  yearned, 
To  love  and  loyal  friendship  shall  be  turned. 

Cho.  Unveil  and  voice  to  us  the  whole  dark  truth  ; 
Upon  what  charge  hath  Zeus  arrested  thee. 
And  wTeaked  on  thee  these  dire  indignities  ? 
Inform  us,  if  thou  mayest  without  more  harm. 


199-238]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  241 

Prom.  Even  to  tell  of  it  is  pain,  and  yet 
Silence  is  pain  : — misery  every  wo-y  ! 
WTien  first  the  wrath  of  gods  began  to  rise. 
And  Faction  reared  her  crest  in  Heaven,  one  part 
Minded  to  oust  old  Cronos,  that  forsooth 
Zeus  misjht  be  lord  ;  others,  with  equal  heat. 
Contending,  Zeus  should  never  rule  in  Heaven  ; — 
I,  at  that  point,  instructing  for  the  best 
The  Titan  offspring  of  great  Earth  and  Sky, 
Could  not  persuade  them,  but  their  giant  thought. 
Proudly  disdaining  my  ingenious  wiles, 
Vaunted  of  victory  by  simjjle  force. 
Without  more  toil.     But  I,  not  once  alone. 
Had  hearkened  to  my  mother's  prophecies 
(Themis  or  Earth,  one  nature,  howe'er  named). 
That  not  by  strength  or  violent  assault, 
But  through  contrivance  should  the  victory  come 
And  the  issue  be  determined.     With  such  words 
I  warned  them,  but  they  looked  another  way. 
Best  then  it  seemed  of  courses  in  my  view, 
Supported  by  my  mother  to  stand  forth. 
Willing  and  welcome  aids  of  Zeus's  throne. 
Therefore,  because  my  counsel  pleased  him  then, 
The  deep  and  darksome  hold  of  Tartarus 
Hides  ancient  Cronos  and  his  host  of  friends. 
Such  benefit  that  tjTant  of  the  gods 
Rewards  with  this  unequal  recompense. 
Suspicion  is  a  vice  ingrained  in  kings. 
Now,  for  your  question,  moved  by  what  offence 
He  thus  torments  me,  I  will  make  that  clear. 
Once  planted  in  his  father's  seat  of  power. 
He  ranged  his  realm  in  provinces,  and  gave 
To  divers  gods  their  several  dignities. 
But  of  the  poor  distressful  race  of  men 
He  took  no  thought ; — nay,  'twas  his  fixed  intent 
To  blot  them  from  the  world,  and  bring  to  birth 
Another  brood  of  creatures  in  their  room. 
This  plan  none  hindered,  none  opposed,  but  I. 
I  dared  to  cross  him,  and  redeem  mankind 
From  ruin  and  the  abyss  of  nothingness. 


242  PROMETHEUS  BOUND         [239-271 

Therefore  I  thus  am  bowed  with  chastisement. 
Painful  to  bear  and  piteous  to  be  seen. 
Compassionating  mortals  in  my  heart, 
r^Iyself  refused  compassion,  to  the  shame 
Of  Him  in  heaven,  I  stand  corrected  here. 

Cho.  Of  ston}^  mould  and  steel-made  heart  were  he, 
Prometheus,  whom  thy  suffering  melted  not. 
I  had  shrunk  erewhile  from  the  mere  thought  of  that 
The  sight  whereof  wrings  me  with  inmost  woe. 

Prom.  To  friendly  ej-es  I  am  a  sight  of  pain. 

Cho.    Say,  was  there  more  ?      Hast  thou  told  all 
thy  sin  ? 

Prom.  I  took  from  man  the  expectancy  of  Death. 

Cho.  WTiat  cure  hadst  thou  invented  for  that  ill  ? 

Prom.  Blind    hopes,   which    I    established    in    his 
heart. 

Cno.  A  mighty  boon  thou  gavest  mortals  there. 

Prom.  Yet  further,  I  provided  them  with  fire. 

Cho.  Fire  to  frail  man  ?     Have  mortals  radiant  fire  ? 

Prom.  Yea,   and  therefrom  shall  compass  various 
skill. 

Cho.  And  on  this  charge  does  Zeus  torment  thee 
now 
With  ignominious  bondage  and  strong  pain  ? 
And  is  no  limit  set  for  thy  release  ? 

Prom.  No  limit  but  the  day  of  his  desire. 

Cno.  When  should  that  dawn  ?     Wliat  hope  ?     Ah, 
seest  thou  not 
How  wrong  thou  wert  ?     How  deeply  wrong,  'twere 

pain 
For  us  to  speak  and  thee  to  hear.     Let  be  ! 
But  try  some  course  for  gaining  thy  reprieve. 

Prom.  How  easy,  when  the  foot  is  free  from  harnif. 
To  counsel  and  admonish  the  unhappy  ! 
I  knew  it  all  beforehand.     Mine  offence 
W^as  wilful.     I  avouch  it  willingly. 
Rescuing  mankind,  I  plunged  myself  in  woe. 
Yet  could  I  not  imagine  he  would  ■WTeak 
His  anger  in  such  pains  as  here  I  sulfer, 
Withering  against  this  air-poised  crag,  inheriting 


272-308]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  243 

This  savage  rock  in  desert  solitude  ! 
Howbeit,  lament  not  for  my  present  ills, 
But  setting  foot  on  ground,  hear  me  relate 
The  evil  coming  on,  that  ye  may  learn 
My  fortunes  to  their  end.     Grant  my  request. 
Show  kindness  to  him  now  in  misery, 
Knowing  that  sorrow,  ever  wandering  round, 
Visits  in  turn  all  bosoms  at  her  will. 

Cho.  With  desire  we  obey  thy  command, 
And  with  light  foot  thus  leaving  our  fast-Hying  chair. 
And  the  highway  of  eagles,  the  smooth  stainless  air. 
We  alight  on  the  rock-roughened  land. 
The  full  course  of  thy  woes  and  their  end  we  would  fain 
understand.     [They  descend  to  the  orchestra 

Enter  Oceanus,  mounted  on  a  griffon. 

Ocean.  I  am  come,  having  travelled  a  tedious  road, 
To  find,  Prometheus,  thy  drear  abode. 
Directing  the  tlight  of  my  fleet-winged  steed 
By  my  thought,  for  of  bridle  he  ne'er  hath  need. 
That  I  rue  thy  torment  I  bid  thee  know  ; 
Both  law  of  kindred  compels  me  so, 
And,  akin  or  stranger,  none  lives  whose  part 
Is  more  than  thine  in  my  steadfast  heart. 
For  more  assurance,  try  me  and  see, 
Idly  to  flatter  is  not  in  me. 
Only  declare  what  deed  of  mine 
May  stead  thee,  or  further  thy  main  design, 
And  thou  ne'er  shalt  tell  that,  the  whole  world  through, 
Thou  hast  found  than  Ocean  a  friend  more  true. 

Prom.  Ha  !    Who  comes  here  ?     Ai-t  thou,  too,  bent 
to  explore 
This  agony  ?     How  couldst  thou  leave  the  stream 
Called  after  thee,  and  the  rock-vaulted  caves. 
Thy  workmanship,  to  come  so  near  broad  Earth, 
Mother  of  iron  ?     Is  it  to  gaze  thy  fill. 
And  harrow  up  thy  spirit  with  my  woes  ? 
Behold  a  pageant  of  ingratitude. 
The  friend  of  Zeus,  that  helped  him  to  his  throne, 
Bowed  with  such  pangs  as  thou  beholdest  here  ! 


244  PROMETHEUS  BOUND        [309-347 

Ocean.  Yea,  and  it  moves  me,  O  Prometheus  mine. 
To  counsel  thee,  deep  thinker  though  thou  art. 
Learn  thine  owa  weakness,  and  conform  thy  ways 
To  his  new  government  who  rules  in  Heaven. 
For  if  thou  tlingest  abroad  such  bitter  speech, 
So  harsh  and  vehement,  though  Zeus  sit  high 
Yet  might  he  hear  thee,  and  the  wrath  to  be 
Make  child's-play  of  thy  present  agonies. 
Unhappy  one,  bid  angry  passion  cease. 
And  seek  remission  from  thy  misery. 
Find'st  thou  an  old-world  cadence  in  my  words  ? 
Most  like  !  but  yet  in  truth  the  recompense 
Of  too  bold  speech  is  even  what  I  say. 
And  thou  art  still  unhumbled,  unsubdued. 
And  goest  the  way  to  make  misfortune  more. 
But  not,  if  I  might  be  thy  counsellor, 
Shouldst  thou  strike  back  against  the  goad.     Severe 
Is  he  who  rules,  responsible  to  none. 
I,  howsoe'er,  will  go  and  do  my  best 
To  win  enlargement  and  rehcf  for  thee  ; 
H  only  thou  wilt  hold  thee  still  and  cease 
From  stormy  virulence.     Ivnowest  thou  not  well. 
Being  excellent  in  wisdom,  that  restraint 
Still  presses  sorely  on  the  unbridled  tongue  7 

Prom.  I  envy  thee  thy  freedom  from  this  blame. 
Though  in  mine  enterprise  thou  too  hadst  part. . 
But  let  it  be,  set  thy  good  heart  at  rest. 
Thou  canst  not  move  him  :  he  is  inexorable. 
Sea  rather  lest  thine  errand  bring  thee  pain. 

Ocean.  Thou  art  wiser  to  admonish  other  minds 
Than  prudent  for  thyself :  I  see  that  well. 
But  pull  not  back  me  who  am  bent  to  go. 
Zeus,  1  am  confident,  wiU  grant  me  this 
Indulgence,  to  release  thee  from  thy  bond. 

Pkom.  I  still  must  praise  thy  jDurpose.     Thy  staunch 
soul 
Lacks  nought  of  zealous  love.     But  spare  thy  toil : 
Idle  thy  labour,  nought  avaihng  me. 
Hold  thyself  quiet,  out  of  sorrow's  way. 
What  though  I  suffer  ?     Should  I  then  desire 


348-384]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  245 

Unhappiness  to  ravage  far  and  wide  ? 

Not  so.     My  Brother  Atlas'  woes  afflict  me. 

Who,  stationed  by  the  region  of  the  west. 

Upbears  the  pillar  of  the  Universe, 

'Twixt  Earth  and  Heaven,  upon  his  shoulders  broad, 

No  holiday  load.     Another  have  I  seen 

And  mourned  for,  erst  the  Earth-bora  denizen 

Of  vast  Cilician  caves,  that  monster-foe. 

Now  forcibly  subdued  by  power  supreme, 

Dread  hundred-throated  Ty|)hon  unappalled. 

That  stood  erect  against  the  heavenly  host. 

Hissing  red  slaughter  from  his  horrid  jaws, 

\\Tiile  lurid  lightnings  flashed  from  forth  his  eyes, 

As  he  would  storm  of  Zeus  the  sovran  throne. 

But  the  ne'er-slumbering  firebolt,  neezing  flame, 

Zeus'  javelin,  descending  on  him  there, 

Down  smote  him  from  his  pinnacle  of  pride. 

And  scathed  his  strength  to  ashes.     Who  to-day. 

Stricken  to  the  core,  lies  by  the  narrow  sea 

A  paralysed  and  ineffectual  bulk. 

Pressed  beneath  Aetna's  rock-root;    whereabove, 

Under  the  summit,  at  his  forge  unseen, 

Hephaestus  sits,  hammering  the  massive  ore. 

Thence  one  day  shall  break  forth  rivers  of  tire, 

Devouring  with  all  devastating  jaws 

Fair-fruited  Sicily's  smooth  acreage  ; 

Such  turbulent  wTath  shall  boil  from  Typhon's  breast, 

Though  burnt  to  cinders  by  Heaven's  thunder-stone  ! 

But  thou,  let  wisdom  save  thee, — thou  know'st  how — 

Thy  deep  experience  needs  no  counsellor  ; 

Let  me  wear  out  my  bondage,  till  the  heart 

Of  Zeus  bo  hghtened  of  its  angry  load. 

Ocean.  Yet  know'st  thou  not,  Prometheus,  that  wise 
words 
Are  healers  of  the  heart's  distemperature  ? 

Pkom.  Yea,  words  in  season  soothingly  addressed. 
Not  checking  with  crude  force  the  heaving  mind. 

Ocean.  Bat   from   wise   care   and   daring    well-be- 
thought 
What  damage  canst  thou  apprehend  ?     I  would  know. 


246  PROMETHEUS  BOUND        [3S5-414 

Prom.  I  see  in  this  nought  but  enormous  folly 
And  labour  to  no  purpose. 

Ocean.  Let  me  suffer 

Beneath  that  blame  ;  for  to  be  wise,  and  seem 
Futile  and  foolish,  ofttimes  serves  one  well. 

Prom.  I  shall  be  credited  with  this  offence. 

Ocean.  That  argument  is  plain,  and  warns  me  home. 

Prom.  Your  plaint  for  me  would  win  you  hatred 
there. 

Ocean.  ^lean'st  thou  with  him  whose  newly-stab- 
lished  throne 
Is  now  almighty  ? 

Prom.  Yea,  with  him.     Beware, 

If  once  his  wrath  be  kindled. 

Ocean.  Thy  sad  plight, 

Prometheus,  is  my  beacon. 

Prom.  Then  begone. 

Let  this  thy  wiser  purpose  hold. 

Ocean.  I  go 

Even  while  thy  voice  thrills  in  my  listening  ear  ; 
My  winged  quadruped  begins  to  beat 
Thin  Aether  with  broad  pinion,  and  would  fain 
Repose  him  in  the  stable  whence  he  flew. 

[Exit  OCEANVS 

Chorus. 

I  mourn,  Prometheus,  for  thy  ruinous  woe,  I  1 

And  moisten  all  my  cheek  with  warm  soft  rain 
From  sad  eyes'  overflow. 

Past  sufferance  is  the  oppression  and  the  pain ; 
Since  Zeus,  by  self-made  laws  ruling  amain 
'Gainst  gods  that  once  were  great  a  conqueror's  pride 
doth  show. 

All  lands  send  forth  one  imiversal  groan,  I  2 

Weeping  thy  goodness  and  thy  brethren's  glory 
With  loud  resounding  moan. 

For  your  high  pageants  and  your  grandeur  hoary : 
Those  mortals  from  the  weet  begin  the  story 
Whom  Asia  shelters  near  her  sacred  throne. 


41 5-457]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  247 

They  too  lament  thy  mournful  plight,  II  1 

That  hold  the  well-fenced  Colchian  height, 
A  warrior  host  of  maidens  unsubdued. 
And  Scythian  hordes,  that  range  around 
Maeotis'  pool,  Earth's  utmost  bound. 

And  wild  Arabia's  martial  flower,  II  2 

Who  man  the  clifi-o'ertopping  tower 

Mid  stern  Caucasian  solitude, 

A  serried  front  of  spearmen  good, 

With  war-whoop  hard  to  be  withstood- 

One  Titan  only  heretofore  I  saw  III  1 

With  outrage  infinite  of  gods  oppresfc. 

Atlas,  on  whose  sustaining  sinews  rest 

The  heavens,  that  roll  by  Fate's  resistless  law. 

But  now  thy  doom  the  clashing  waves  resound.      III  2 
The  deep  bewails  it  to  the  echoing  shore, 
Dark  Hades  mutters  from  Earth's  pit  profound. 
And  springs  of  sacred  streams  thy  piteous  pains  deplore. 

Peom.  ^Misconstrue  not  my  silence.     'Tis  not  pride,, 
Nor  daintiness,  but  thought  that  tears  my  heart. 
When  I  behold  the  scorn  that  spurns  me  here. 
Yet  who  but  I  to  these  new  deities 
Gave  and  determined  each  prerogative  ? 
Of  that  I  speak  not ;  for  ye  know  it.     But  learn 
How  grievous  were  the  woes  of  humankind, 
Wherefrom  I  raised  them,  furnishing  with  thought 
Their  fancies  infantile  and  reasonings  crude. 
I  speak  not  this  to  offend  them,  but  to  prove 
The  richness  of  those  blessings  I  bestowed. 
They  had  eyes  and  saw  not,  ears  and  could  not  hear. 
But  mingled  all  things  dreamwise  hitherto. 
Knowing  nought  of  brick-framed  homes,  courting  the 

sun. 
Nor  woodcraft.     But  they  dwelt,  like  the  insect  horde. 
In  burrows  underground.     No  certain  sign 
Had  they  of  winter,  or  the  flowery  spring. 
Or  fruitful  summer.     All  their  works  were  wrought 
W'ithout  perception,  till  I  made  them  know 


243  PROMETHEUS  BOimD        [457-495 

The  risings  of  the  Stars,  and,  harder  yet. 

Their  settings.     Furthermore,  for  their  behoof. 

My  wit  brought  forth  inventions  choice  and  rare  ;■ — 

Number,  prime  sovereign  of  all  sciences, 

Writing  and  spelling,  and  sage  Memory, 

That  wonder-worker,  mother  of  the  Muse. 

'Twas  I  that  first  to  yoke  and  collar  tamed 

The  servant  steer,  and  to  relieve  mankind 

From  labours  manifold,  the  docile  steed 

I  drew  beneath  the  well-appointed  car. 

Proud  instrument  of  wealthy  mortals'  pride. 

And  none  save  I  found  for  the  mariner 

His  wave-o'er-wandering  chariot,  canvas-winged. 

I,  that  devised  thus  gloriously  for  men. 

Myself  have  no  device  to  rid  my  soul 

Of  her  sore  burden  ! 

Cho.  Thou  art  fallen  indeed. 

Far  from  tliy  height  of  wisdom  and  renown, 
And  like  a  skill-less  leech,  art  in  despair 
To  find  the  physic  for  thine  o^vn  disease. 

Prom.  Hear  further,  and  thy  wonder  will  be  mors 
At  my  wise  means  and  shrewd  contrivances. 
This  case  was  hardest.     If  a  man  fell  sick. 
There  was  no  remedy,  in  shape  of  food. 
Or  draught,  or  unguent,  but  they  pined  away 
For  lack  of  medicines  ;  till,  from  my  thoughc. 
They  learned  to  mingle  kindly  healing  drugs, 
That  guard  them  from  all  illness.     Then  1  drew 
Clear  hnes  for  divination,  and  discerned 
(Before  all  others)  what  from  dreams  is  sure 
To  come  to  pass  in  waking  :    I  disclosed 
The  mysteries  of  omen-bringing  words. 
And  path-way  tokens,  and    made  plain  the  flight 
Of  taloned  birds,  both  of  good  augury 
And  adverse,  and  the  manner  of  their  life. 
With  all  the  meaning  of  their  enmities. 
And  mutual  loves,  and  kind  companionships. 
What  the  smooth  surface  and  the  divers  hues 
Of  the  entrails  signify,  which  pleases  most 
The  Powers,  I  taught  them  ;  and  the  liver's  lobe 


495-52  51        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  249 

And  gall,  by  what  strange  shapes  they  tell  of  good  ; 

Then,  passing  through  the  fire  the  beast's  long  chine 

And  thigh-bones  -RTapped  in  fat  of  sacrifice, 

I  cleared  the  way  for  mortals  to  an  art 

Hard  of  discernment,  and  made  bright  and  clear 

Fire-auguries,  heretofore  obscure  and  blind. 

Enough  of  them  !     Lastly,  beneath  the  ground 

What  hidden  benefits  remained  for  men, 

Copper  and  iron  ore,  silver  and  gold. 

Who  else  revealed  than  I  ?     None  but  a  fool 

And  babbler  e'er  would  boast  it.     In  one  word. 

Know  this  ; — Prometheus  gave  all  arts  to  men. 

Cho.  Blessing  mankind  beyond  their  destined  bound, 
Neglect  not,  hapless  one,  thine  own  distress. 
I  still  have  hope  that,  freed  from  this  thy  bond, 
Thou   shalt    have   strength    to   cope   with   the   Most 
High. 

Prom.  Not  so.     Not  yet.     All  consummating  Fate 
Ordains  this  otherwise.     WTien  countless  woes 
And  agonies  have  bowed  me, — not  before, — 
These  bonds  shall  leave  me.     Art  is  feebler  far 
Than  Destiny. 

Cho.  But  who  of  Destiny 

Controls  the  helm  ? 

Pp.om.  The  Fates  of  triple  form. 

And  unforgetting  Furies. 

Cho.  Then  is  Zeus 

Feebler  than  these  ? 

Prom.  He  will  ne'er  avoid  his  doom. 

Cho.  WTiat  doom  hath  Zeus  but  evermore  to  reign  ? 

Prom.  Ye  trench  on  mysteries  :  incjuire  no  more. 

Cno.  Some  deep  dread  secret  must  thy  silence  veil. 

Prom.  Dwell  on  some  other  theme.     The  hour  for 
this 
Is  not  yet  come,  that  I  should  utter  it. 
Nay,  1  must  wrap  it  closely  with  all  heed 
For  herein  lies  my  vantage  for  release 
From  ignominious  bonds  and  acronies. 


230  PROMETHEUS  BOUND         [526-562 

Chorus. 
May  All-Disposing  Zeus  ne'er  set  I  1 

His  might  to  crush  my  heart's  desire  ! 
Ne'er  may  I  loiter  nor  forget, 
When  bulls  are  slain  at  the  altar-fire. 
Daily  before  the  gods  to  go, 
That  feast  beside  the  quenchless  flow 
Of  my  great  Sire  ;  nor  once  offend 
In  word  !     May  this  true  tinct  hold  to  my  being's  end  ! 

'Tis  sweet  the  life  thus  to  prolong  I  2 

In  peace  without  alloy  of  fear, 

Feeding  a  spirit  fresh  and  strong 

With  tranquil  hope  and  lightsome  cheer. 

But,  ah  !  I  shudder  at  the  sight 

Of  thee,  and  thine  afflicted  pHght, 

Prometheus,  who,  in  care  for  man, 

Defjdng  Heaven's  high  Lord,  art  fallen  beneath  his  ban. 

0  wasted  kindness  !     What  resource  II  I 
Lay  with  frail  mortals  ?     Didst  not  see 

Their  dreamlike  strength,  their  nerveless  force 

Fettered  with  blind  infirmity  ? 

Dear  friend,  declare  it !     Shall  the  power 

Of  creatures  creeping  for  an  hour 

By  wisdom  overpass  the  bound 

The  mind  of  Zeus  hath  fixed  their  little  Hves  around? 

Never  !     I  read  it  in  thy  fall.  II  2 

My  life  shrills  forth  a  different  lay 
From  that  which  in  mid-festival 

1  chanted  on  tliy  marriage  day. 
Leading  our  sister's  nuptial  quire, 
Child  of  the  self-same  Ocean-sire, 
Hesiond,  whom  thou  didst  guide 

Home  ^vith  rich  gifts  to  be  thy  blissful  bride. 

Enter  lo. 

lo.  What  land,  what  people  is  here  ?     Ah  me  I 
Rook-fast  in  fetters,  whom  do  I  see  ? 


563-596]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  2.51 

What  sin  called  forth  the  avenging  storm 
That  wi-ecked  and  ruined  that  godlike  form  ? 
Yet  in  pity  for  one  travel-wearied,  say 
Where  I  am  come  in  my  wandering  way. 

Ah  !  ah  !     Again 

That  fly  is   stinging  !     Woe  is  me  !     That  phantom  ! 

Hide  him,  O  Earth  !     'Tis  Argus,  born  of  thee, 

To  herd  this  heifer  with  his  mjTiad  eyes. 

The  sight  appals  me.     There  !  with  crafty  looks 

He  glides,  though  dead,  yet  seen  above  the  ground. 

Forth  of  the  shades,  a  shadow,  he  pursues  me. 

And  Hke  a  huntsman  tracks  my  wandering  feet. 

As,  hunger-smitten,  I  roam  the  brine-washed  sand. 

Meanwhile  the  wax-framed  reed,  still  as  we  move,      I  1 
Drones  gently  forth  a  drowsy-making  strain  ; 
Ah  me  !  for  pity,  whither  must  I  rove  ? 
What  windings  of  my  travelled  course  remain  ? 
What  sins  of  mine,  O  Cronos'  son, 
Must  I  with  these  fell  woes  atone  ? 
Wny  doth  thy  wrath  afflict  me  here, 
Sbing-driven  and  maddened  with  dire  fear  ? 
Burn  me  with  fire,  hide  me  in  Earth  away. 
Or  to  Sea-monsters  yield  me  for  a  prey  : 

O  to  these  prayers  relent  I 

Enough  of  chastisement, 
Enough  of  weary  wandering  far  and  wide  ! 
Yet  from  encircling  woes  no  path  may  be  descried. — 
Hear'st  thou  the  heifer-horned  maid's  complaint  ? 

Prom.  The  child  of  Inachus,  the  sting-vexed  virgin, 
For  whom  the  heart  of  Zeus  is  hot  with  love. 
But  Hera  hates  her,  and  now  drives  her  far. 
Travelling  perforce  in  unexampled  ways. 

lo.  Whence  should  my  father's  name  be  voiced  of 
thee  ?  I  2 

Tell  me,  the  travel-wearied,  who  thou  art. 
That  in  thy  woes  thus  truly  hailest  me. 
The  woeful ;  yea,  and  hast  described  the  smart 


252  PROMETHEUS  BOUND         [596-634 

And  heaven-sent  plague,  that  onward  still. 

Pursued  by  Hera's  ruthless  will. 

Speeds  me  with  gaddy's  maddening  goad, 

An-hungered,  on  a  storm-driven  road. 

Bounding  I  carae,  withered  at  heart.     What  soul 

Hath  sorrow  like  to  those  that  o'er  me  roll  ? 

Then  to  mo  clearly  show 

What  more  remains  of  woe. 
Or,  if  thou  canst,  declare  what  remedy. 
What  ending  of  my  plague  may  be  devised  for  me. — 

0  let  the  weary  maiden-wanderer  know  ! 

Prom.  All  thou  wouldst  learn  I  will  declare  to  thee, 
Not  weaving  riddles,  but  in  simple  phrase. 
And  frankly,  as  beseems  the  friendly  tongue. 
Thou  seest  Prometheus,  giver  of  fire  to  men. 

lo.  O  bold  Prometheus,  universal  boon 
To  mortals,  what  offence  atonest  thou  here  ? 

Peom.  I  have  newly  ended  telling  o'er  my  woes. 

lo.  Then  wilt  thou  not  vouchsafe  me  one  request  ? 

Proji.  Declare  it.     Nothing  would  I  hide  from  thee. 

lo.  Name  him  who  fastened  thee  to  that  ravine. 

Peom.  The  counsel  of  high  Zeus,  Hephaestus'  hand. 

lo.  In  forfeit  for  what  error  ! 

Peom.  Hold,  no  more  ! 

1  have  told  enough. 

lo.  Nay ;  yet  reveal  to  me 

The  time  and  limit  of  mine  own  sad  way  ! 

Peom.  'Tis  best  unknown. 

lo.  Withhold  not,  but  reveal 

My  future  destiny. 

Peom.  Nay,  I  grudge  thee  not. 

lo.  Why  then  delay'st  thou  to  declare  the  whole  ? 

Peom.  This  lothness  comes  not  of  an  envious  mind  ; 
But  I  would  spare  the  torment  of  thy  heart. 

lo    Tender  me  not  more  dearly  than  I  would. 

Prom.  Art  thou  so  eager  ?     Hear,  then  ;  I  will  telL 

Cho.  Stay.     Let  us  too  partake  of  pleasure  here. 
First  let  us  understand  her  piteous  lot. 
From  her  own  mouth,  relating  her  distress  ; 
Then  let  her  learn  from  thee  her  toils  to  come. 


635-671]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  253 

Prom.  Io,  this  kindness  would  come  well  from  thee 
Unto  these  maids,  trvie  sisters  of  thy  sire. 
'Tis  ever  worth  expense  of  tedious  time 
There  to  tell  over  and  bemoan  one's  grief 
Wliere  the  auditor  rewards  one  with  a  tear. 

Io.  Your  joint  command  how  should  I  disobey  ? 
All  ye  inquire  for  shall  be  clearly  told. 
Yet  shame  comes  o'er  me,  even  while  I  speak 
Of  that  which  brought  the  ruin  of  my  form. 
That  heaven-sent  hurricane,  that  still  I  rue. 
Night-visions  ever  hovering  by  my  bower. 
Flattered  with  smooth  seductive  words,  '  Blest  maid, 
Why  stayest  thou  yet  a  virgin,  when  the  Highest 
Offers  thee  bridal  ?     Zeus  hath  felt  the  heat 
Of  longing  for  thy  charms,  and  would  enjoy 
The  rite  of  lova  with  thee.     Then  spurn  not  thou, 
Daughter,  the  couch  Divine,  but  hie  thee  forth 
To  Lerna's  meadow,  rich  with  herb  and  flower. 
Near  to  the  flocks  and  herdstalls  of  thy  sire. 
And  still  this  passion  of  the  sovran  eye.' 
Afflicted  with  such  dreams,  night  after  night, 
I  pined  at  heart,  till  in  despair  I  told 
My  father  of  these  visions  of  my  sleep. 
He  many  a  sacred  mission  then  dispatched 
To  Delphi  and  Dodona,  to  inquire 
How  best  to  satisfy  the  Power  supreme. 
But  all  returned  with  riddling  vague  reports 
Of  oracles  uncertain  and  obscure, 
Till  at  the  last  to  Inachus  there  came 
An  utterance  unmistakable  and  clear. 
Commanding  him  to  tlirust  his  daughter  forth, 
Io,  from  home  and  fatherland,  to  range 
A  thing  devoted,  through  Earth's  utmost  bounds. 
If  he  refused,  the  tire-eyed  lightning-bolt 
From  Zeus  should  come,  and  blast  his  race  to  nought. 
Moved  by  such  prophecy  from  Phoebus'  mouth, 
Against  his  will  and  mine  he  drove  me  forth. 
And  barred  his  doors  to  me.     Nought  but  the  curb 
That  swayed  him  frorr  the  Highest,  could  have  com- 
pelled 


254  PROMETHEUS  BOUND        [672-700 

That  father's  heart  to  this.     Then,  instantly. 
My  shape  was  altered  and  my  mind  distraught. 
And  horned,  as  ye  behold  me,  with  sharp  stings 
From  the  ox-fly,  bounding  in  my  frenzied  mood, 
I  darted  toward  Cenchrea's  cooling  streams 
And  Lema's  fountains.     And  along  my  path 
A  giant  form  kept  pace,  Argus,  earth-born. 
The  heifer's  herdman,  of  untempered  rage. 
His  thick-set  eyes  peering  where'er  I  trode. 
Him  sudden  fate,  unlocked  for,  robbed  of  hfe  ; 
But  I,  still  goaded  by  the  maddening  fly. 
From  land  to  land  am  driven  by  heavenly  power. 
My  past  is  told  thee.     Now,  if  thou  canst  tell 
What  sorrow  yet  awaits  me,  make  it  known. 
Nor  out  of  pity  soothe  me  with  false  tales. 
No  pest  more  baneful  than  dissembling  breath. 

Cuo.  Hold  !  enough  !  let  me  breathe  !     I  had  never 
divined 
Word  so  monstrous  should  pierce  through  mine  ears  to 

my  mind, 
Or  my  spirit  within  me  be  utterly  chilled 
U'ith  keen-edged  afflictions  that  dazzle  the  view, 
Heart-harrowing    horrors    that    freeze    through    and 

through 
The  soul  such  recital  hath  tlirilled. 
I  am  shuddering  (ah  Destiny  !  ah  cruel  Fate  !) 
Since  I  -witnessed  of  lo  the  god-ruined  state. 

Prom.  You  groan  too  soon,  and  overflow  with  fears. 
Stay  till  vou  Team  her  sorrows  yet  to  be. 

Cho.  Speak  ;  tell  them  forth.     'Tis  sweet  for  those 
in  pain 
To  explore  the  future  of  their  misery. 

Prom.  Your  former  boon  hath  lightly  been  fulfilled : 
From  lo's  self  ye  have  heard  her  previous  woe. 
Now  learn  what  follows,  what  a  load  of  grief 
Hera  hath  yet  to  inllict  on  this  young  maid. 
Tliou,  child  of  Inachus,  give  inmost  heed 
To  my  discourse,  that  throughly  thou  mayst  know 
Thy  journejnngs  and  their  end. — First  turn  thy  steps 
From  hence  toward  the  sunrising,  and  tread 


709-742]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  255 

O'er  untilled  acres,  till  you  near  the  tribe 
Of  nomad  Scythians,  whose  cane-wattled  homes 
Are  mounted  high  on  well-appointed  wheels  ; 
Avoid  their  company,  skirting  the  surf 
Of  roaring  brine,  and  pass  from  yonder  land, 
To  where  upon  your  left  a  people  dwell, 
The  fierce  Chalybeans,  forgers  of  the  steel, 
^\Tiom  strangers  durst  not  tempt.     Of  them  beware. 
The  river  of  Tumult,  faithful  to  his  name. 
Ford  not,  for  he  is  not  to  be  essayed. 
Till  even  to  very  Caucasus  thou  come, 
Loftiest  of  mountains,  from  beneath  whose  crown 
The  river  spouts  his  strength.     Over  that  peak, 
Star-neighboured,  on  a  track  facing  the  noon. 
Thou  shalt  advance,  and  find  to  welcome  thee. 
And  guide  thee  gladly  onward,  the  strong  host 
Of  Amazons,  man-hating,  man-abhorred. 
Who,    long   years   hence,    shall   make   their  dwelling- 
place 
At  ThemiscjTa,  by  Thermodon's  stream, 
^Vnere  juts  into  the  deep  the  cruel  jaw 
Of  Salmydessus,  cursed  of  mariners, 
Ill-famed  for  harbourage,  stepmother  to  ships. 
Nest,  where  the  sea's  great  plain  is  narrowed  in 
To  a  gate  of  exit,  comes  the  point  of  land 
Named  of  the  Cimbrians.     With  a  dauntless  breast 
Fare  forth,  and  s-nam  the  deep   Maeotian  frith. 
This  feat  shall  earn  thee  mighty  fame  from  men. 
And  where  the  heifer  passed,  the  mystic  name 
Of  Bosporos  shall  linger  evermore. 
So  shalt  thou  leave  broad  Europe  and  arrive 
On  Asia's  boundless  continent. — Say  ye. 
Seems  not  this  lord  of  gods  to  all  alike 
Impartial  in  his  ruthless  violence  ? 
In  lust  supernal  for  this  mortal  girl 
He  hath  thus  oppressed  her  with  sore  journeyings. 
Thy  wooing,  damsel,  hath  prepared  for  thee 
No  hght  affliction.     Think  of  what  is  said 
Barely  as  prelude  to  thy  tale  of  woe. 
lo.  0  me  !     Alas  !  woe,  woe  S 


256  PROMETHEUS  BOUND        [743-781 

Prom.  Again  thou  clamourest  with  lowings  loud. 
What  wilt  thou  do,  when  thou  know'st  all  thine  ill  ? 

Cho.  Hast  thou  then  more  of  sorrow  for  her  ear  ? 

Prom.  A  storm-vexed  sea  of  fateful  agony. 

lo.  O  wherefore  should  I  Uve  ?     Why  not  even  now 
Fling  myself  headlong  from  this  craggy  scaur  ? 
So,  dashed  upon  the  ground,  I  should  dispel 
All  troubles.     Better  once  for  all  to  die. 
Than  all   one's  days  to  pine  in  misery. 

Prom.  Full  hardly  couldst  thou  bear  my  sufferings, 
For  whom  this  fate  is  fixed — '  Never  to  die.' 
That  were  indeed  a  riddance  from  all  ill. 
But  now  no  Umit  is  appointed  me 
Of  torment,  till  Zeus  fall  from  his  high  throne. 

Jo.  Zeus  fall !  Comes  there  a  time  when  that  may  be  ? 

Prom.  'Twould  gla,dden  thee,  I  trow,  to  see  that  day. 

lo.  Most  surely,  since  from  him  are  all  my  woes. 

Prom.  Then  be  assured  the  very  truth  is  so. 

lo.  WTiat  hand  shall  wrest  from  him  the  staff  of 
power  ? 

Prom.  His  own  vain  counsel,  lorn  of  wisdom's  light. 

lo.  In  what  wise  ?  tell  me,  so  it  bring  no  harm. 

Prom.  Winning  a  bride,  whose  wedding  he  shall  rue. 

lo.  Of  Heaven  or  Earth  ?     If  not  forbidden,  tell. 

Prom.  Inquire  no  more.     'Tis  not  to  be  revealed. 

lo.  Shall  his  new  consort  oust  him  from  his  throne  ? 

Prom.  Their  son  shall  be  more  puissant  than  his  sire. 

lo.  And  can  he  not  avoid  that  overthrow  ? 

Prom.  Only  when  1,  delivered  from  my  bonds — 

lo.  Who  may  deliver  thee  without  his  will  ? 

Prom.  Offspring  of  thine  is  destined  to  that  deed. 

lo.  How  ?     Shall  my  son  release  thee  from  thy  pain  7 

Prom.  Thy  progeny,  but  thirteen  times  removed. 

lo.  Doubtful  and  dark  is  that  last  oracle. 

Prom.  Yea.     Seek  not  to  know  further  thine  own  ill. 

lo.  Of  kindness  offered,  disappoint  me  not. 

Prom.  Of  two  recitab  I  will  grant  thee  one. 

lo.  What  are  they  ?     Signify,  and  let  me  choose. 

Prom.  Choose,  then,  if  1  shall  tell  thy  future  toil. 
Or  my  deliverer. 


782-812]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  257 

Cho.  One  of  these  to  her. 

To  us  the  other  boon  vouchsafe,  nor  scorn 
Our  craving  for  discourse.     To  her  disclose 
Her  coming  pilgrimage ;  to  us  reveal 
Who  shall  release  thee.     That  we  long  to  hear. 

Pkom.  Your  zeal  I  will  not  frustrate,  but  declare 
All  that  ye  beg  for.     lo,  first  to  thee 
Thy  fear-encountered  rovings  I  will  tell. 
Inscribe  them  on  thy  chart  of  memory. 
When  thou  hast  crossed  that  current,  which  divides 
Mainland  from  mainland,  on  a  long  straight  road 
Move  toward  the  ruddy  Orient,  where  the  Sun 
Leaves  rich  memorials  of  his  morning  tread, 
[Till  first  thou  come  unto  the  gusty  realm 
Of  Boreas'  daughters.     There  take  heed  lest  he. 
The  Storm-blast,  snatching  thee  aloft  from  Earth, 
On  wintry  whirlwind- wings  bear  thee  away.] 

Then,  passing  those  rude  waves,  thou  shalt  arrive 
At  far  Cisthene's  Gorgoneian  plain, 
Where  dwell  three  maidens  of  mysterious  age, — 
Daughters  of  Phorcus,  each  one-toothed,  and  all 
Sharing  one  eye.     On  them  never  the  Sun 
Looks  with  his  radiance,  nor  the  Moon  by  night. 
Their  form  is  swan-like.     Next,  their  sisters  three, 
The  Gorgons  dwell,  hated  of  mortal  men. 
Draped  with  long  wings  and  fells  of  serpent  hair— 
Whom  none  of  mortals  may  behold  and  live. 
That  garrison  I  bid  thee  mark  full  well. 
Now  hear  another  sight  to  chill  thy  blood. 
I  warn  thee  of  the  Griffons,  hounda  of  Zeus, 
Voiceless,  but  keen  of  fang :  and  the  Arimasps, 
One-eyed,  of  equine  tramp,  that  live  around 
The  stream  of  Pluto,  flowing  down  with  gold. 
Come  not  thou  near  them.     Last  thou  shalt  arrive 
At  a  far  land  and  dark-complexioned  brood 
That  hve  beside  the  fountains  of  the  Sun. 
There  is  the  river  Aethiops.     Descend 
Along  his  banks,  till  in  your  journeying 
You  reach  the  precipice,  where  cataract  Nile 

117  ^ 


258  PROMETHEUS  BOUND        [812-847 

Sublimely  from  the  Bybline  mountains  pours 
His  worshipped,  kindly  waters  to  the  world. 
He  shall  conduct  thee  to  the  three-nooked  land 
Of  Egypt's  Delta,  where  'tis  destined  thee, 
lo,  to  settle  for  thyself  and  thine, 
Your  long-continuing  Argive  colony. — 
If  aught  I  have  said  seem  inarticulate 
Or  dark,  go  back  and  question  me  thy  fill. 
More  leisure  than  I  care  to  have,  is  mine. 

Cho.  If  thou  hast  aught  unsaid,  or  slighted  o'er, 
To  tell  her  of  her  woeful  pilgrimage. 
Speak  further.     But  if  all  is  done,  give  us 
The  boon  we  crave,  as  thou  rememberest. 

Pkom.  She  hath  heard  all  the  limits  of  her  way. 
But  for  assurance  to  her  doubting  heart 
I  will  relate  her  troubles  to  this  hour. 
In  token  that  my  testimony  is  true. 
'Twere  tedious  to  recount  the  whole  at  full. 
I  come  to  thy  last  fit  of  wandering. 
Arrived  at  the  Molossian  plain,  beneath 
Dodona's  lofty  ridge,  where  stands  the  seat 
And  oracle  of  great  Thesprotian  Zeus, 
Thou  drewest  near  that  wonder  of  the  world. 
The  language-gifted  oak,  which  hailed  thee  there, 
Clearly  and  with  no  riddling  voice,  '  Famed  wife 
Of  Zeus  that  wert  to  be.'     Thrill'st  thou  at  that  T 
Thence,  rapt  anew  with  frenzy,  thou  wast  borne 
To  Rhea's  deep  bosom  by  the  shoreward  way. 
Then  backward  with  a  w'ild  rebound  wast  driven. 
Wherefore  that  gulf  and  corner  of  the  main 
Shall  bear  the  name  Ionian  to  all  time 
In  lasting  record  of  thy  devious  road. 
Be  this  a  sign  to  thee,  my  reach  of  thought 
Discerns  more  things  than  sense  hath  registered. 

{To  the  Chorus.)  Now  to  content  you  with  my 
promised  tale. 
And  finish,  too,  my  talk  with  lo  here. 
Beginning  where  I  ended.     A  town  lies, 
Canopus,  at  the  limit  of  that  land. 
Close  to  the  mouth  and  sand-bar  of  the  Nile. 


848-880]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  259 

Therein  shall  Zeus  restore  thee  to  thy  mind, 
With  dreadless  hand  touching  thee,  nothing  more. 
And  thou  shalt  bear  a  son,  dark  Epaphus, 
Named  from  the  manner  of  his  birth  from  Zeus. 
The  fruits  of  all  the  land  that  Nilus'  flood 
Makes  rich  with  wide  o'erflowings,  shall  be  his. 
A  family,  fifth  in  descent  from  him. 
Of  fifty  children,  most  imwillingly 
To  Argos  shall  return,  a  female  brood 
Fleeing  from  wedlock  with  their  nearest  of  kin, 
First  cousins  of  their  blood,  who  with  wild  heat. 
Like  swooping  falcons  close  behind  the  doves. 
Will  come  in  quest  of  marriage-bond  forbidden. 
But  to  those  captors  shall  an  Eye  divine 
Deny  the  persons  of  the  maids — whom  then 
Pelasgia  shall  receive,  when,  in  the  night. 
Men  shall  be  quelled  by  female  homicides 
Sleepless  and  bold — for  every  woman  there 
Shall  rob  of  life  the  man  obtaining  her. 
Dyeing  the  two-edged  dirk  in  his  heart's  blood. 
Such  love-rite  may  God  send  upon  my  foes  ! 
Howbeit,  one  sister  of  the  fifty  there. 
Charmed  by  desire  and  blunted  in  resolve. 
Shall  rather  choose  reproach  of  cowardice 
Than  guilt  of  murder,  and  shall  spare  her  mate. 
Her  children  in  wide  Argos  shall  be  kings. 
'Twere  long  to  trace  the  sequel  point  by  point. 
But  of  that  seed  shall  rise  the  hero  bold. 
The  famous  bowman,  who  from  these  my  bonds 
Shall  set  me  free.     Themis,  the  Titaness, 
Mine  ancient  mother,  told  me  this  should  be. 
But  how  or  by  what  means  her  prophecy 
Shall  find  accomplishment,  'twere  long  to  explain  : 
Nor  if  thou  knewest,  would  it  avail  thee  aught. 

lo.  0  horror  untold  !     Yet  again,  yet  again, 
I  am  smitten  within  by  the  nerve-rending  pain 
That  maddens  my  spirit ;  again  I  am  stung 
With    the    dart    at    whose    forging    no    anvil    hath 
rung  : 


260  PROMETHEUS  BOUND        [881-916 

My  heart  throbs  and  knocks  at  my  fear-laden  breast. 

And  mine  eyeballs  whirl  round  in  a  rage  of  unrest. 

Under  gales  of  wild  frenzy  I  drift  far  astray, 

While  my  tongue,  uncontrolled,  utters  words  of  dismay. 

And  cries  of  distraction,  that  turbidly  beat  all  in  vain 

Against  billows,  that  gloomily  threaten  and  thunder 

from  Destiny's  main.  [Exit  lo 

Chorus. 
Wisdom  and  truth  were  on  his  hps  who  first        I  1 
Proclaimed  it  best  to  find  an  equal  mate, 

Nor,  being  of  poor  estate. 
Long  for  a  match  with  one  in  wealth  immersed 
And  pampered,  or  of  lineage  proud  and  great. 

0  never  may  I  couch  with  Zeus  most  high,  1  2 
Nor  wed  with  one  descended  from  the  sky  1 

The  man-lorn  maidenhood 
Of  lo  wakes  my  terror,  who  must  rove 
This  rueful  maze,  victim  of  Hera's  mood. 

From  modest  marriage  with  my  peer  III 

I  shrink  not  with  unworthy  fear. 

But  let  no  eye  above 

Pierce  me  with  fateful  love  ! 
Vnin  then  to  struggle,  fond  to  fret, 
Self-tangled  in  the  baffling  net: 

How  might  I  hope  to  tly 

The  intent  of  Zeus  most  high  ? 

Prom.  Yet  shall  the  Highest,  though  stubborn  be  his 
will, 
Prove  lowlier-minded,  through  the  marriage-bond 
He  purposeth.     For  it  shall  hurl  him  down 
From  pjwer  supreme  to  nothing.     Then  shall  come 
To  full  accomplishment  the  father's  curse 
Cronos  cried  forth  in  falling  from  his  throne 
Of  primal  sovereignty.     To  avert  this  doom 
No  god  but  I  can  point  him  the  sure  way. 

1  know  each  turn  thereof.     Then  let  him  reign 
Securely,  trusting  to  his  thunder's  noise 


917-949]        PROMETHEUS  BOUND  261 

And  •wielding  there  aloft  his  lightning  brand  ! 
Nought  shall  they  warrant  him  from  that  sure  fall, 
Intolerable,  unhonoured,  unreprieved. 
So  dire  a  wrestler  he  himself  provides 
Against  himself,  a  portent  huge  in  might. 
The  weapons  of  whose  forging  shall  o'er-blaze 
His  lightning  and  outblare  his  thunder-blast. 
And  the  new  sea-god's  spear,  the  trident  dread, 
Poseidon's  arm  that  plagues  the  stricken  lands 
With  earthquake,  shall  be  shattered  by  his  power. 
Zeus,  foundering  on  that  rock,  shall  fathom  then 
What  space  divides  the  sovereign  from  the  slave. 

Cho.  You  word  your  wishes  against  Heaven's  high 
king. 

Prom.  My  wishes,  and  the  truth  of  what  shall  be. 

Cho.  Must  we  then  look  for  one  the  lord  of  Zeus  ? 

Peom.  Harder  than  homage  shall  his  service  prove. 

Cho.  How  canst  thou  talk  so  rashly,  and  not  fear  ? 

Prom.  Why  should  I  fear,  since  death  is  not  for  me  ? 

Cho.  May  he  not  doom  thee  to  some  pain  more  dire  ? 

Prom.  Let  him  !     Nought  can  surprise  me,  who  fore- 
know. 

Cho.  Wisdom  bids  bow  before  the  inevitable. 

Prom.  Ay,  bend  and  worship,  fawn  upon  the  strong  ! 
Less  than  the  least  care  I  for  Zeus's  will. 
Let  him  exploit  his.  strength  even  as  he  may. 
For  this  brief  hour.     His  reign  will  soon  be  o'er. — 
But  soft,  behold  yon  errand-boy  of  Zeus, 
Courier  of  him  new-stablished  on  Heaven's  throne  ! 
Strange  must  the  message  be  that  brings  him  here. 

Enter  Hermes. 
Herm.  Thou,  whom  rash  wisdom  and  rebellious  hate 
Uphold  in  sinning  'gainst  the  sons  of  Heaven, 
Dispensing  their  prerogatives  to  men 
Who  are  born  and  die,  frail  creatures  of  an  hour. 
Thou  thief  of  fire, — the  Father  bids  thee  tell 
What  marriage  'tis  thou  vauntest,  or  what  hand 
Forsooth  must  hurl  him  from  his  place  of  power. 
This,  in  no  riddling  language,  but  with  terms 


262  PROMETHEUS  BOUND         [950-982 

Exact  and  plain,  make  knovra.     Compel  me  not, 
Prometheus,  twice  to  trace  a  tedious  road. 
Thou  seest,  Zeus  is  not  thus  propitiated. 

Prom.  Proud,  as  beseems  the  minister  of  gods, 
And  nobly-sounding  is  that  high  command. 
Young  gods,  young  pride  of  unproved  majesty  ! 
Ye  think,  your  eminent  seats  shall  ne'er  know  paia. 
Have  I  not  from  those  very  towers  beheld 
Two  monarchs  headlong  hurled  ?     Ay,  and  erelong 
The  third,  who  now  wields  lordship  unalloyed. 
Will  follow.     I  shall  see  it  with  mine  eyes. — 
Deem'st  thou  these  youngling  deities  o'erawe 
And  daunt  me  ?     That  religion  fails  me  quite. 
So,  scurry  back  again  the  road  thou  camest  ! 
None  of  thy  queries  shall  be  solved  by  me. 

Herm.  This  haughty  spirit  and  reckless  speech  of 
thine 
Have  landed  thee  where  now  thou  art  in  woe. 

Prom.  I  would  not  change  it  for  thy  servitude. 
Better  to  grieve  than  be  a  lackeying  slave. 

Herm.  Better,  forsooth,  be  bound  to  yonder  rock. 
Than  serve  the  Highest  with  faithful  ministry  ! 

Prom.  Insult  for  insult,  ye  but  reap  your  due. 

Hebm.  You  wanton  in  your  present  plight,  methinks. 

Prom.  Such  wantonness  may  all  mine  enemies 
Luxuriate  in  :  and  thou  among  the  rest ! 

Herm.  What  blame  bear  I  for  thy  calamities  ? 

Prom.  One  word  for  all.     I  hate  the  race  of  Heaven, 
That  meet  my  benefits  with  acts  of  \vTong. 

Hekm.  What  madness  past  belief   thy   words  dis- 
close ! 

Prom.  If  hatred  of  a  cruel  foe  be  madness. 
Let  me  be  mad. 

Herm.  Unbearable  wert  thou. 

If  fortune  favoured  thee. 

Prom.  '  Fortune  ?  '     Ah  me  I 

Herm.  That  cry  Zeus  never  syllabled. 

Prom.  Not  yet ; 

Wait  till  the  hour  be  ripe.     Time  perfects  all. 

Heem,  Time  hath  not  taught  thee  prudence. 


983-1015]      PROMETHEUS  BOUND  263 

Prom.  Else  I  had  ne'er 

Held  converse  with  a  servile  minister. 

Herm.  Our  Father's  hest  will  not  be  satisfied 
By  word  from  thee,  I  doubt  me. 

Prom.  Deep  the  debt 

Compliance  from  my  lips  would  render  him  ! 

Herm.  You  have  bantered  me  as  if  I  were  a  child. 

Prom.  And  art  thou  not  more  childish  than  a  child, 
Looking  from  me  to  reap  intelligence  ? 
No  torment,  no  device  of  the  Most  High 
Shall  move  these  lips  to  utterance,  till  he  loose 
These  tyrant  bonds  of  harsh  indignity. 
Then  let  his  darted  lightning  singe  the  world  ; 
With  rumbling  earthquake  and  white  fluttering  snow 
Let  him  confound  and  choke  all  things  that  are 
Nought  in  his  power  shall  bend  me  to  reveal 
Whom  Fate  prepares  to  work  his  overthrow. 

Herm.  Look  to  thy  speech  !     Think'st  thou  to  mend 
thy  lot  ? 

Prom,  Long  since  I  have  looked  at  more  than  thou 
hast  seen. 

Herm.  Vainglorious  being  !     Bring  thyself  at  last 
To  take  true  measure  of  thy  misery. 

Prom.  Thou  lessonest  me  as  idly  as  thou  mightest 
With  suasive  words  control  the  mounting  wave. 
Never  imagine  it,  that  I,  in  fear 
Of  His  resolve,  will  play  the  woman's  part. 
With  meek  uplifting  of  my  suppliant  hands 
To  entreat  His  favour  whom  my  soul  abhors 
For  liberty  from  bondage.     Far  from  me 
Such  base  humility  ! 

Herm.  My  words  are  vain. 

And  would  be,  were  they  multiplied.     No  prayer 
Can  melt  or  soften  thee,  who,  like  a  colt 
New-harnessed,  art  reluctant  to  the  rein. 
And  plungest  with  untempered  vehemence. 
Weak  is  thy  wisdom  there  ;  for  will  alone. 
Without  true  thought,  is  worse  than  impotent. 
Yet  see  to  it,  what  a  hurricane  of  woe 
With  wave  on  wave,  shouldst  thou  reject  my  word. 


264  PROMETHEUS  BOUND    [1016-1052 

Assails  thee  unavoidable.     The  Sire 
With  thunder  aud  the  flash  of  lightning-flame 
Shall  cleave  this  craggy  glen,  and  hide  thy  form 
Closed  in  Earth's  rocky  arms.     So  shalt  thou  dure 
An  age-long  time,  then  back  return  to  light : 
When  the  fell  eagle,  winged  hound  of  Zeus, 
Shall  pounce  on  thee  and  tear  thy  shattered  frame, 
Repasting  on  that  mighty  wreck,  a  guest 
Of  all  day  long,  unbidden,  and  shall  gorge 
Upon  thy  liver,  blackened  with  his  beak. 
Expect  no  end  of  that  sore  agony. 
Till  some  one  of  immortal  race  be  found 
Willing  to  suffer  in  thy  stead,  going  down 
To  Hades'  rayless  gloom  and  the  dark  depths 
Round  Tartarus.     This  being  so.  choose  thy  course. 
No  bluster  of  feigned  menace  fills  thine  ear. 
But  words  of  dreadful  sooth.     The  lip  of  Zeus 
Knows  not  to  lie  ;  but  to  each  syllable 
Shall  give,  in  the  issue,  dire  accomplishment 
Scan  then  the  path  before  thee,  nor  account 
Self-will  more  comely  than  wise  thoughtfulness. 

Cho.  Despise  not  Hermes'  counsel  when  he  pleads 
Tliou  shouldst  give  o'er  thy  wilfulness  and  try 
The  path  of  prudence  and  true  thought.     Thou  art 

wise — 
'Twould  ill  become  thy  fame  to  err  herein. 

Prom.  All  he  loudly  proclaims  I  foreknew.     To  bear 

wrong  from  a  foe  brings  no  shame. 
Then  be  darted  upon  me  in  fury  the  pine-piercing 

flame  ! 
Let  the  calm  Empyrean  be  fretted  with  thunder,  fierce 

agony  shoot 
Far  through  Ether  with  racking  of  tempest,  and  Earth 

from  her  nethermost  root 
Rock  with  wind  till  she  quake  to  her  centre  ;— wavo 

heaped  upon  wave  with  liarsh  roar 
Disorder  the  stars  in  their  courses,  confounding  the 

sea  with  tlie  shore  ; — 
At  one  cast  let  him  fling  me  afar  to  black  Tartarus, 

cruelly  whirled 


1052-1087]    PROMETHEUS  BOUND  265 

As  Necessity  wills  to  Hell's  uttermost  depth,  at  the  base 

of  the  world  : — 
Yet  he  never  can  doom  me  to  death.     I  shall  live 

evermore. 
Herm.  'Tis  the  boast  of  a  spirit  diseased :    but  O 

ye  whose  compassion  would  share 
In  the  weight  of  his  misery's  burden,  move  quickly 

from  hence  and  beware, 
Lest  the  crash  of  the  bellowing  thunder,  no  creature 

for  maidens  to  bind, 
Crus'n    the    flower   of   your   thought   and   for   ever 

enfeeble  your  mind. 
Cho.  Let  thy  voice  utter  counsel  to  move  me, — not 

this,  I  can  never  abide  ! 
Nor  pervert  wisdom's  way  with  light  breath.     Come 

what  comes,  I  will  stand  at  his  side, 
There  to  drink  of  the  cup  of  his  sorrow.     Foul  treason 

be  far  from  my  breast  ! 
Beyond    other  evils   that  evil   I   scorn   and   de- 
test. 
Herm.  Yet  remember  the  words  of  my  warning,  nor 

caught  in  the  meshes  of  ill 
Cry  on  Fortune,  or  Zeus  who  decoyed  you,  since,  led 

by  your  own  foolish  will. 
Spite  of  timely  foreknowledge  of  sorrows,  premonished 

and  not  unaware 
Nor  blind,  but  with  open-eyed  madness,  your  souls  will 

be  caught  in  the  snare 
Of  the  measureless  net  of  destruction,  and  endless 

despair. 
Prom.  'Tis  no  longer  a  fable.     The  earth  heaves  and 

rolls  like  a  storm-troubled  sea. 
And  the  roar  of  her  waves  is  deep  thunder  that  momently 

bursts  at  my  side, 
And  the  lightning's  fierce  spirals  gleam  vividly  forth, 

while  in  horrible  glee 
Many  whirlwinds  are  wildly  careering  with  columns  of 

dust  far  and  wide. 
AU  the  winds  leap  to  loveless  contention,  each  blast  by 

his  brother  defied. 


266  PROMETHEUS  BOUND    [1088- 109 3 

The  sky  and  broad  main  in  one  chaos  of  turbid  com- 
motion are  blent ; 

And  on  me  this  assault  from  high  Zeus,  making  awe 
where  it  moves,  hath  been  sent ! 

0  Themis,  my  mother,  all-worshipped  !     O  Ether,  that 
roUest  along 
The  light  all  inherit  I     O  Earth,  thou  beholdest  my 
wrong  I 


NOTES 

The  fignrex  refer  to  Sidgwick\i  numbering  of  the  lines,  as 
giien  ajiproriinnttly  at  the  top  of  each  page  of  the  translation. 

For  tht  Trandniors  views  on  special  points  see  the  Text 
of  Aeschylus  in  Macmillana  Parnassus  Series  (1898):  also 
the  'American  Journal  of  Philology,^  i.  4. 

The  Suppliants. 

P  4,  1.  46.  Named  of  Fate.  'Eva.pos  from  ((pa:rrfa6ai,  '  to 
touch  with  the  hand.' 

P.  5,  1.  79.   Our  flou-er  :    *i'jBai'  .  .  .  reXtov  (Schiitz). 

P.  6,  11.  1G2,  1C3.  Ah,  Zeus,  heal  los  ban  and  bane.  I 
read — 

a  Z-^v,  'loC'9  *loj  ftrjiiv 
*fj.aariv  r'  tx  Otivv,  k.  t.  X. 

P.  8,  I.  ISO.   That  sit  in  conclave  here. 
tH/vS'  d'ytuviaiv   6iujv. 
Cp.  infra,  355. 

Here  and  elsewhere  a-ywvios  seems  to  be  a  traditional 
epithet  of  the  Greater  Gods,  who  are  worshipped  together 
in  the  pubhc  place.  The  origin  of  the  expression  is  uncer- 
tain. 

P.  9, 1.  207.   Firmly  hold  the  wands  ye  bear. 

^■n\avT)%   5'    irjTQi   Kpciros. 

I  take  /irjx"*''?  l^ere  to  be  the  sj^mbol  of  supplication,  which 
was  to  be  their  means  of  safety.  Cp.  supra,  22,  UirHv 
iyX(tpi5iois. 

P.  10,  1.  248.  Warden  of  some  fane.  Reading  rr^pov 
*Upov  patiZov.      (*MS.  ijfpov.) 

P.  11,  1.  296.  And  would  prevent.  The  text  here  is  cor- 
ru])t,  and  Mr.  Tucker  gives  good  reasons  for  not  adopting 
Hermann's  emendation. 

P.  12,  1.  320.  Of  thrilling  moment.  I  take  this  to  be  im- 
plied in  Trai'crocfioy — '  wise,'  because  of  serious  import. 


268  NOTES 

P.  12,  1.  337.  An  honourable  bond  to  friends  were  good. 
Reading  ovono.  Lit.  '  Who  would  complain  of  having 
friends  for  masters  ?  ' 

P.  12, 1.  344.  /  had  nought  to  do,  &c.  Lit.  (It  would  be 
a  question  of  Justice) '  if  I  had  had  a  part  in  the  matter  from 
the  beginning.'  Others  interpret  (taking  ^^  as  3rd  person 
sing.) :  '  (Justice  is  on  the  side  of  those  who  fight  for  her  :) 
Assuming  that  a  cause  is  just  to  begin  with.'  Cp.  below, 
U.  372  ff. 

P.  19, 1.  555.  The  land  of  Aphrodite,  rich  in  grain.  Phoe- 
Eicia  (according  to  the  SchoHast,  who  is  probably  right). 

P.  19, 1.  560.  Snoiv-storms.  In  the  original  there  is  an 
allusion  to  Typhon  that  is  hard  to  preserve. 

P.  20,  1.  595.  Hastening  work.  Ooa^ojv.  the  only  mean- 
ing of  this  verb  in  tragedy. 

P.  21, 1.  618.  Home  and  foreign  mischief.  'Home'  because 
the  Danaides  are  of  Argive  race, '  foreign  *  because  Danaus 
was  an  Egyptian  citizen.     So  the  SchoUast. 

P.  24,  1.  708.  Third.  The  three  commandments  pro- 
bably are — 

1.  Honour  the  Gods. 

2.  ,,  „  Heroes. 

3.  ,,      your  Parents. 

See  Plato's  Laws,  iv.  717.  According  to  others  the  three 
objects  of  homage  are  Gods,  Parents,  the  Laws  ;  and  Tplrov 
only  means  'one  of  three.' 

P.  28,  11.  836  ff.  Hark  to  my  warning,  hark  I  Either  the 
Herald  and  the  Danaides  here  are  made  to  speak  a  bar- 
barous tongue,  or  the  text  of  what  follows  is  extremely 
corrupt.  Some  amount  of  guesswork  in  the  translation  ia 
unavoidable. 

P.  28, 1.  853.     This  Heaven-observing  town 
Smiles  as  we  seize  our  own. 

Reading  (in  default  of  anything  better) — 

drira  ra/x    dyoa   ituKiv   iiiat^uiv. 

'I  lead  away  mine  own  without  incurring  vengeance,  as 
1  offend  not  against  their  city.' 
P.  28, 1.  859.     I  propose  to  read — 

*Kr].     'Aydos  iyui   0a6vxatas 
$a6(ias  0a6eiai 
*f(fiajv  ffii  5«',    K.T.K. 


NOTES  269 

P.  31, 1.  950.    In  those  few  words,  &c.     Reading  *fffTiv  rad' 

^5r;,  K.T.\. 

P.  32, 1.  1002.     Bidding  Love  wait  not,  &c.     Reading — 
KoXaipa  KwXvovaa  *itpoafxiviLV  *''Epajy  (i.  e-  'Epcora). 


Ths  Persians. 
P.  42,  Nos.  IV  and  V  are  transposed,  as  conjectured  by 
K.  0.  Miiller. 

P.  48,  1.  276.  From  rock  to  jagged  rock.  I  have  not  at- 
tempted to  render  nXayKTois  (v  SirKaKfacnv,  which,  ac- 
cording to  Hermann,  means,  'while  their  mantles  float 
around  them.' 

P.  59,  11.  675  S.     Reading  (perhaps)— 
Tt  TaOf  Sward,   Svvara, 
vtpl   TO.  era  SidvfMa  *Siayoav  apdprta 
ndaq  7^  rade ; 
*Cp.  5ioSv/)ojuai. 

P.  64, 1.  815.  Unexplored.  Reading  *(KinSvirai  (Schiitz). 
The  laying  of  the  pavement  (fcprjTTii)  would  be  part  of  tho 
work  of  reducing  the  natural  well-spring  to  order,  for  human 
uses,  and  so  curbing  its  wild  exuberance.  Cp.  Plato,  Laws, 
7.  SU8  D  vrjyrjy  tov  tppovuv  /itjtto;  KaTTjprvfj.ti'Tjv. 


Seven  against  Thebes. 

P.  84, 11.  363  S.     Find  for  their  earliest  grief. 

Kaivoirr]fJ.ot/ts. 

In  this  and  other  expressions,  which  have  been  strangely 

misunderstood,  Aeschylus  refers  to  the  crushing  efiect  of 

the  first  great  sorrow.     Cp.  Agam.  210 — 

■napaKond  irpwTOTrrjfj.wi'. 
In  the  hnes  which  follow  this,  I  read — 
*\(KTpov  *^\6ov  alxpLaXaiTOV 
dvbpos  fvrvxuvvTos  dis 
SvcTfifvovi  vweprtpov, 

*Tj\m(Tdv  *Tf    VVKTipOV    TfAoj    fxoXdv,    IC.T.K., 

supposing  T\T]pov(s  to  be  a  corruption  of  jjA^oi'  [«s],  and 
fvvdv  a  gloss  on  KUrpov,  the  words  having  been  accidentally 
transposed. 


270  NOTES 

P.  86, 1.  437.  This  blazon  too.  Reading  nal  r^St  *K6fffi^ 
(or  *K6fiTTa)). 

P.  90, 1.  578.     Pohjnices,  fraught  with  strife  ;    i.  e.  IIoXv- 

V(iKT];  =  6  TToXv-VflKrjS. 

p.  94,  1.  697.     More  desired  than  death's  delay, 
vporepov  varipov  /lopov. 

Cp.  Agam.  1254,  o  5'  vffraTO!  yt  rov  \p6vov  nptafffverai. 

P.  97, 1.  7S6.  For  their  unfilial  ways.  The  Scholiast  on 
Oed.  Col.  1375,  is  perhaps  right  in  thinking  that  Tpi>tpds 
means  '  for  negliaence  about  his  food.'  But  Hermann  (with 
SchiJtz)  interprets, 'in  anger  that  thechildren  of  such  a  union 
should  have  been  reared ! '  What  then  of  Antigone?  I  read 
T(KVOi<:  ^'  *a.ypias  |  ((p^Ktv,  *fjriKOTOi  rpo<pai,  with  Heath  and 
Prof.  E.  L.  Lushington. 

P.  98, 1.  830.    Keen  in  strife  and  true  in  fame.     Reading — 

*l7t0lc\iLUi    KCU     VoKvVUKilS. 


AOAMEMlfON. 

P.  112,1.  40.     Driven  wide  :  (K-naTioi^. 

P.  113,  1.  70.  The  powers  that  burn,  but  need  no  fire;  i.  e. 
the  Erinyes.  This  interpretation  of  airvpwv  Upijjv  is  sup- 
ported by  Eumen.  138  drpai  Kanaxvai-vovaa,  vr}hvo^  rtvpl  .  .  . 
papatvf,  ib.  305  xal  (luv  m  Sai'ciiy  oxi^i  vpo%  ^cjpiai  <T(payfii. 
The  genitive  may  be  construed  with  -rapaOi^^ei :  Lit.  'He 
shall  not  cajole  from  fireless  rites  immitigable  wrath.' 
The  suggestion  of  the  Scholiast  cannot  be  taken  literally  ; 
for  the  Erin\'es  appear  to  have  been  worshipped  with  burnt 
Kacrifice  (Eumen.  lOS).  The  ritual  of  Colonus  is  not  to 
be  thought  of  here.  Others  refer  the  words  to  the 
sullenness  of  a  sacrifice  that  refuses  to  burn,  as  in  Ant. 
1006  ff.  Yit  another  view  which  has  some  plausibility 
may  be  met  by  rendering  : 

'Shall  serve  to  cancel  a  ruthless  docm  ; 
Or  soften  the  anger  in  fierce  hearts  born 
By  the  fire  unlit  and  the  altar  lorn.' 

(The  neglect  of  sacrifice  being  a  symbol  for  sin  in  general.) 
An  allusion  to  the  sacrifice  of  Iphigenia  would  be  hardly  ia 
place. 


NOTES  271 

P.  113,11.76-82.  Taking  dj'ao-ffcui' (sic)  as  participle  of  the 
imperfect  tense  =  os  dvaicrafv.  According  to  others  these 
lines  have  a  general  meaning,  merely  expanding  the  force 
of  lax^"  i<T07rGi5a  supra.  This  gives  a  clear  construction 
to  the  sentence,  but  has  rather  a  tame  effect. 

P.  114,  1.  121.  But  let  the  happier  note  prevail.  t6  5'  tv 
viKaru.  Mr.  James  Riddell,  the  -well-known  author  of  the 
Digest  of  Platonic  Idioms,  used  to  insist,  in  lecturing  on  the 
Agamemnon,  that  the  imperative  must  be  so  explained. 

P.  114,  1.  129.  TTpoadf  ra  Sri/utow^TjOrj  :  i.e.  rd  npuaOtv 
tvra.  S7jfxion\i]6r).     The  rhythm  favours  this  construction. 

P.  115, 1.144.  Doth  yet  accord  her  mind.  Reading  d  «a.\d 
end  ah'ii. 

P.  117,  1.  223.  For  the  first  shock  of  grief  before  unfelt.  For 
the  meaning  here  assigned  to  irpcoToir-q^ixuv,  see  note  on  the 
Seven,  against  Thebes,  11.  363  ff.  (supra,  p.  269). 

P.  118,  1.  256.  a7xi(rT0j':  'nearest  to  the  throne.*  The 
Council  would  naturally  be  selected  from  those  allied  in 
eome  way  to  the  royal  house.  Cp.  Pers.  4  Kara  npfdPdav 
(the  Persian  elders  were  the  old  comrades  of  Darius, 
ib.  681). 

P.  119,  1.  288.  The  blazing  pine.  I  retain  irfVKTj,  and  read 
to'Yvi' . . .  *npoTivvu(v  for  lax^i^  •  •  •  Trpus  rjhovriv  in  the  previous 
line,  an  emendation  which  I  find  to  have  been  anticipated 
by  Symmons. 

P.  120, 1.  314.     But  here  one  runner,  &c. 

viKa  5'  o  irpiJjTOS  icat  rfXevTaios  Spapicuv. 

The  runner  is  Hephaestus  (see  1.  281),  and  as  elsewhere  in 
far-fetched  comparisons  the  point  of  difference,  as  well  as 
of  resemblance,  is  marked.  In  the  ordinary  XannaSrjpopia 
there  were  many  runners,  and  the  man  who  succeeded  in 
bringing  in  the  torch  was  in  some  way  distinguished  above 
the  rest.  In  the  present  case,  the  runner  from  first  to 
last  is  the  same  Fire-god, whose  'reward  is  with  him '  all  the 
way  in  the  victorious  tidings  which  he  bears.  Herodotus 
makes  a  similar  application  of  the  idea  of  the  torch-race  in 
describing  the  djyapoi,  or  post-runners,  of  the  King  of  Persia, 
viii.  98.  The  liistorian  (Herod,  ix.  3)  also  attributes  to 
Mardoniua  the  intention  of  signalling  from  Athens  to  Sardis 
by  beacons  on  the  islands  {wpaoiai  dia  v-Qaan').  For  the 
actual  use  of  fire  signals  in  Greece,  see  especially  Herod. 
vii.  182. 


272  NOTES 

P.  121,  1.   374.     Reading  (KTivovffa  roXfxa  twv  "Apr/  with 

Hartung:  but  query  ?   I  formerly  rendered  the  MS.  reading, 

'  To  late  descendants  of  proud  warrior  Kings.' 

P.  122, 1.  3S4.    Minded  to  htirl  ii  into  nought.  Others  join 

tiraAfiy  . . .  (h  dfavfiav  =  '  A  bulwark  to  hide  or  shelter  him.' 

P.  122, 1.  409.    Suficcv  ■npo<f>fiTai:  'spokesmen  of  the  house  ' 

(Headlam). 

P.  122,  1.  412.  Soul-stricken  before  that  unremoved  blot. 
I  read — 

rrnptari   *ai'y',  arinos  *dA\'   dXoiSopoi, 
*dKaaTa  *nr)fiova.v  *i5ujv, 

with  air'  aias  'EWdSos  in  the  antistrophe. 

P.  126,  1.  527.  ^wf-wl  .  .  .  ISpi'fjLara  :  perhaps  a  marginal 
quotation  from  Pers.  81 1.  But  though  the  boast  would  be 
improper  for  Agameuanon,  it  may  be  permitted  in  the 
Herald. 

P.  126,  1.  547.  arvyos  -faTpaTtf.  The  reading  is  doubtful. 
Perhaps  arvyos  ;  <ppdaov. 

P.  128, 1. 612.  Than  of  the  blacksmith's  art.  x«^"oD  I3a(pds  = 
'The  dipi)ing  (i.e.  tempering)  of  metal.'  a  mystery  beneath 
the  dignity  of  a  princess  to  understand. 

P.  128,  1.  G16.  Thine  ear,  a  sound  interpreter.  I  believe 
Topuiatv  ip^iTjVfvai  to  be  an  Aeschylean  periphrasis  for  toFs 
waif,  implying  that  Clytemnestra's  language  at  all  events 
was  clear  (whatever  her  meaning  miglit  be). 

P.  129,  1.  637.     Heaven's  honour  should  be  clear. 
^ojpij   i)   ■'■'A''?   Oiwv. 
The  honour  due  to  Gods  is  to  be  kept  apart  (from  that 
of  the  Erinyes).     For  the  opposition  between  Gods  and 
Furies,  see  the  Eumenides,  and  for  the  absence  of  the  article, 
cp.  Ant.  745  n^ds  7*  jas  Otwv  -naTwv. 

P.  130, 1.  6S7.      War-won,  war-wed,  war-wakening  Helene. 
tXfVaus,    i\avSpoSy   i\firTo\is. 

The  puiming  epithets  expanded  in  this  and  the  following 
lines  are  derived  from  tkuv,  a  word  which  is  often  used 
with  the  meaning  '  to  quell  '  ;  hterally,  *  Queller  of  ships,  of 
men,  of  cities.' 

P.  135,  1.  864.  Another,  he  had  brought 

Dishonour,  worse  even  than  his  death. 

Tuv   5'    infia^lifpfiv  KaKOv 
icdiciov   dXAo   irrj/xa. 


NOTES  273 

This  is  said  with  a  side-glance  at  Cassandra. 
P.  135,  1.  871.  r  pass 

The  aoyss  of  ground  beneath  him. 
r)iv   KOLTca  yap   oi/   Xtyw. 
Compare  the  Seven  against  Thebes,  1.  946 — 

ttXovtos  dtivaaoi   iarni. 
P.  137,  1.  934.     Prompt  is  that  reply.     I  read  — 
utrep   TfS'    (I'SoT   y    tv   tu5*    i^itirov    *Taxos. 
Agamemnon,  who  has  been  in  many  hairbreadth  escapes, 
is  well  aware,  and  therefore  admits  without  hesitation,  that 
in  an  hour  of  peril  he  might  have  vowed  this  or  any  other 
lavish  expenditure  by  way  of  thank-offering.     Dr.  Head- 
lam,  whose  interpretation  of  the  previous  Une  agrees  with 
mine,  prefers  flnfp  ns  douis  7'   (v  tu5'  *f^finfi'  t(Kos  :    '  If 
the  performance  of  such  ritual  had  been  prescribed  by  well- 
advised  authority.'     But  in  a  sudden  emergency  the  King 
would  not  have  consulted  Calchas  before  making  his  vow. 
P.  138, 1.  983.  -^^povos  5'  end 

irpvuvTjaicov  (vvffj.^oXais 
ipaixn'iat   uKras   iraprj- 
^■qaiv,   fv8'    iin    'l\tov 
SipTO,    vavliaras  arparos  : 
reading  tvxoi-'-ai  S'  aur'  «£  e^uas  in  1.  998  of  the  antistrophe. 
I  make  arparoi  the  subject  of  TTapriprjafv.       '  Time    (has 
passed),  since  by  joint-grappling  to  the  sandy  shore,  the 
naval  expedition  lost  its  bloom  when  it  had  set  out  for  Troy.' 
The  reference  is  to  the  delay  at  Aulis  :    cp.  supra,  192-7. 
For  nafn]13r]aev  cp.  Thuc.  vii.   14:    Ppaxiia  Ak^^  ir\r}pwp.aTu%. 
P.  139, 1.  1024.    I  prefer  Ztvs  av  ivavaiv.    '  (If  it  had  been 
otherwise),  Zeus  would  not.' 

P.  140,  1.  1050.    The  immigrant  bird  ;   i.  e.  the  swallow  : 
yjiXibuvo'i. 

P.  142,  1.  1116.      "Nay,   'tis  the  snare  of  the  chamber,  the 
accessory 
0'  the  murder. 

(pOVOV. 

She  sees  in  vision  the  contrivance  with  the  help  of  which 
Agamemnon  was  to  be  laid  low.     Vid.  infra,  1492  ti. 


274  NOTES 

Kucai   S'  apa\vqs   iv  iipaafiari  t^5' 

daepei   OavaTw  ^iov  tKTTVfOJv, 

oifiot  fioi,  Koirav  ravd'  dvt\ev9epoy. 

P.  142,  1.  1118.  Stone  her  /  If  ^evarrjp  c&n  mean 'one 
■worthy  to  be  stoned  '  I  do  not  see  why  Afvai/Kos  may  not 
have  a  passive  meaning.  The  exultation  of  the  Kijpt?  is 
equivalent  to  a  curse.     Hence  KaToXoXv^drcu. 

P.  142, 1.  1 127.  With  that  black  weapon  of  hers.  As  usual 
in  '  second  sight,'  the  objects  seen  are  vaguely  described. 
The  sword  of  Aegisthus,  pointed  at  Agamemnon  byClytem- 
nestra,  is  imagined  as  the  horn  of  the  cow  with  which  slio 
gores  the  bull ;  but,  being  of  iron  or  bronze,  it  is  '  black.' 
Cp.  Choeph.  576  -nobiiKH  .  .  .  xaXKtvuaTi,  Plato,  Rep.  ix. 
686  B  Kvp'iTTOVTts  dWrjXovs  (nOTjpoh  Kipaai. 

P.  144,  1.  1172.  Shall  jail  in  blood.  iv  vUw  I3a\u),  i.  e. 
TtSoi  (niiaKu) — a  simple  tmesis.  For  iy.^dx\tiv  with  dat. 
=  '  to  fall  violently  against,'  cp.  Her.  ii.  28  ffi^dWovroi 
rov  vSaros  roiai  ovpeai :  and,  for  a  similar  tmesis,  Eur.  Cycl. 
674  fls  VTTVOV  (iaXfis. 

P.  145,1.  1229.  X((aaa  KaHTfivaaa  (paiSpovovs.  Dr.  Head - 
lam  rightly  adheres  to  this  reading.  I  carmot  imagine  how 
<paidp(jv  ous  can  ever  have  been  adopted. 

P.  146, 1.  1266.  /  tear  ye.  The  pronoun  in  the  Greek  is 
singular  «  '  thee.'  She  begins  by  taking  off  one  specially 
sacred  symbol. 

P.  146,  1. 1267.   Reading,  with  Hermann,  i-iui  5'  ap.'  ixpopuii. 

P.  147,  1.  1278.  Thit  ejids  the  sacrifice,  irpumpaypa  here 
and  elsewhere  seems  to  be  written  for  npuaaipay^ta,  i.e.  the 
sacrifice  of  a  victim  over  a  grave — death  added  on  to 
death. 

P.  147, 1.  1285.  His  father's  fall.  InTiaafia  is  a  difficult 
word.  It  may  recall  perhaps  the  uplifted  hands  of  the  dying 
man,  as  it  w-ere  appealing  to  Heaven.  Cf.  Prom,  1005 
vTTTiaaptaotv  xtplov,  and  Choeph.  327 — 

dva<paiv(rai   5'  o  ^Kdnrajv. 

P.  147, 1.  1300.  Evert/  momenVs  respite  hath  some  ivorth. 
Lit.  '  The  latest  of  the  time  is  first  in  honour.' 

P.  148,  i.  1330.  This  is  more  piteous  tlian  the  ruin  of 
pride.  The  fate  of  Cassandra  touches  the  heart  more  nearly 
than  the  fall  of  Troy,  or  than  the  death  of  Agamemnon 
which  she  prophesies. 


NOTES  275 

P.  149,  1.  1343.  Eere,  in  the  palace:  tffca.  The  passage 
was  similarly  understood  by  H.  A.  J.  Munro. 

P.  152,  11.  1455  ff.  These  lines  are  gravely  corrupted. 
I  only  profess  to  render  the  general  drift  of  them.  I  take 
it  that  Helen  is  not  directly  accused,  but  that  her  case  is 
compared  to  Clytemnestra's. 

P.  152,  1.  1467.  Unendurable.  d^xi<TTaTo^  seems  nearly 
—  dnXaTos,  from  (vviaTaaSai,  '  to  meet  in  conflict '  (L.  and  S. 
S.v.  avvlaTrjfii,  ii.  2). 

P.  152, 1.  14G9.    On  either  branch  of  Pelops'  ancient  line. 

Sitpvioicn  TavToXiSaiaiv. 

The  exact  genealogical  reference  of  these  words  is  obscure, 
unless  they  may  be  referred  to  the  two  pairs  of  rival  kings  ; 
Atreus  and  Thyestes  in  one  generation,  Agamemnon  and 
Menelaus  in  the  next  (or  possibly  Agamemnon  and  Aegisthus). 

P.  155,  1.  15G9.  Saiixovi  rw  XlAeiaOivilwv — the  place  of 
Pleisthenes  in  the  genealogy  is  uncertain. 

P.  156,  1.  1595.  He  kept  concealed.  Reading  *eKpvTrr' 
avojBfu,  and  punctuating  Kae-qfievo;.  —  ka-qiia  5'  aiiTiliv  (so. 
rwv  oaKTvKojv,  implied  in  the  preceding  words). 

P.  157, 1.  1625.  Woman.  Clytemnestra  may  have  been 
preparing  to  leave  the  stage  at  1.  1577,  but  it  is  not  hkely 
that  she  has  quitted  it.  Her  exit  was  prevented  by  the 
arrival  of  Aegisthus  with  his  guards.  She  meets  this 
reproach  with  silence. 

P.  158, 1.  1657.    Run  in  your  appointed  round.     I  read — 

irpos   *voixoiis  (others   irpos   *5/jJ/iofj)   vi-upojj.itvovi. 
Cp.  Her.  v.  92,  102. 

Chokfhoroe. 

p.  167,  1.  65.  cLKpavTos  may  possibly  mean  '  without 
decision  '  =  oLvtv  rov  Kpaiveadai  (to  dxos).  Others  read 
aieparos : 

'  None  escape  from  her  power, 
Though  they  huger  unscathed  on  the  confines  of  hght, 
Or  in  blackness  of  Night.' 
p.  170,  1.  154.   For  epufia  of  the  tomb,  cp.  Soph.  Ant.  849. 
I  formerly  took  the  genitives  as  masculine.  Where  safely 
sleep  souls  good  and  ill,  comparing  Job  iii.  17-19. 

The  mingled  good  and  evil  of  the  dead  Pelopidae  might 
be  a  natural  theme  for  the  Trojan  women  to  dwell  upon. 


276  NOTES 

In  what  follows,  I  take  «f  dfiavpas  (ppevSf  to  refer  to 
the  feebleness  of  the  dead  (until  he  has  tasted  of  the  liba- 
tion), not  to  the  sadness  of  the  living.  Others,  ^^rith 
Cbnington,  understand  it  of  the  Chorus,  'Singingwith  a  sad- 
dened mind.' 

P.  173,  1.  2S8.  opwvra  Xannpuv.  The  meaning  and 
connexion  of  these  words  is  doubtful.  The  line  is  justly 
suspected. 

P.  174,  1.  322.  irpoaGoSuixois  'ArptiSais :  probably  plural 
for  singular,  referring  to  Agamemnon,  whose  tomb  is  before 
the  palace. 

P.  176, 11.  375  fF.  Meanwhile  descends  .  .  .  to  endure.  I 
take  tliis  to  be  the  drift  of  an  obscure  passage  which  is 
variously  interpreted. 

P.  176,  1.  394.  I  understand  d/^c/xPaXTyr  of  the  power 
that  protects  a  family  in  which  the  male  and  female 
offspring  survive. 

P.  178,  1.  444.  Thou  hearest,  &c.  :  reading  *«x*'5  (for 
\(~fits)  with  Hermann. 

P.  178,  1.  467.  Unskilful  stroke,  vexing  a  tuneless  place.. 
The  blows  of  calamity  are  compared  to  harsh  strokes  with 
the  '  plectrum  '  on  a  badly-strung  IjTe,  calling  forth  sounds 
other  than  musical. 

P.  179, 1.  482.  Power  to  work  Aegisthus'  woe.  I  am  in- 
clined to  read  *tvx(Tv  for  <pv-fiiv  here. 

P.  181,  li.  573  fl.   Or  should  he  come  in  ajterward  and  stand 
Before  my  face. 
I  read — 

f)   *Ka.v  fjLoKwv  fWfLTa   fiot   Kard  arvfxa 
*a.Ta^  (viary  Kat   Kar'   ofpOaXpiovs   *<pavij, 
Wecklein,  who  retains  the  MS.  reading,  is  compelled  to 
assume  a  violent  trajection  of   ad<p'  taOt,  and  to  imagine 
Aegisthus  lifting  and  letting  fall  hiseyes, — no  man  can  tell 
why, — on  seeing  the  Phocian  stranger. 

P.  181,  1.  575.  Caught  on  my  'point  of  steel.  The  idea  is 
that  of  a  dagger  hidden  under  the  cloak  and  suddenly 
brought  round  from  behind  the  victim. 

P.  181,  1.578.  A  third  deep  draught.  The  first  is  the  blood 
of  Agamemnon,  thesecond  of  Aegisthus,  the  third  of  Clytem- 
nestra,  whom  he  does  not  name.  (According  to  others, 
first  the  banquet  of  Thyestes,  second  the  death  of  Agamem- 
non, and  third  the  deaths  of  Aegisthus  and  Clytemnestrt-. 
See  the  concluding  lines  of  this  play.) 


NOTES  277 

P.  182, 1.  592.   Reading  Kavf/^oivr'  &v  .  .  .  (ppaaais. 

P.  182,  11.  624  ff.  oLKaipajs  5«  .  .  .  I  understand  these 
words  to  be  a  resumption — rather  awkwardly  introduced, 
it    must    be   confessed — of    598   ff.       avi^vyovs   5'   ofiavXias 

.   .    .   ^pOTWV. 

P.  185, 1.  699.   For  ever  cancel  it.     I  read  *(Kypa<ptis. 

P.  186, 1.  751.  At  that  great  voice.  Cl5i;emnestra's  in  her 
travail.  Others  suppose  the  words  to  refer  to  the  shrill 
waihnjis  of  the  infant  Orestes. 

P.  187,  11.  783  ff.  As  the  following  ode  and  the  next 
(11.  935  ff.)  cannot  be  regularly  arranged  without  somewhat 
violent  conjecture,  I  have  not  thought  is  necessary  to  pre- 
serve strictly  the  antistrophic  effect  in  them. 

P.  195,  11.  1007  ff.  The  Chorus  apostrophize  Agamemnon, 
whose  presence  is  vividly  suggested  by  the  sight  of  the 
deadly  robe. 

P.  195, 1.  1041.  (Menelaustoo).  Menelaua  is  still  absent, 
and  his  return  still  looked  for,  as  in  the  Agamemnon.  Pa^-t 
of  two  lines  is  lost  here,  e.g. — 

Koi  fxapTvpuy   fjioi   Jil(i'tX([ci}v   xpovai   irori 
SCpLuvs  KaTf\96v0''\   w;   eiropamOi]  KaKO.. 


EUMENIDES. 

P.  199, 1.  13.  Hephaestus'  sons ;  i.  e.  according  to  the 
Scholiast,  the  Athenians  descended  from  Erichthonius,  son 
of  Hephaestus  and  Gaia.  It  is  said  that  sacred  embassies 
from  Athens  to  Delphi  were  accompanied  by  a  band  of 
pioneers. 

P.  204, 1.  204.  aifiaros  ZtKrcap  viov.  vtov  here  probably 
means  'fresh,'  i.e.  not  yet  atoned  for — 'unaneled.'  Below, 
L  359,  it  is  rather  '  strange,'  '  unprecedented.' 

P.  210,  1.  388.  Men  seeing  and  blind.  SepKofitvoiot  nai 
ZvaonixaTois.  The  Schohast  understands  'living  and  dead,' — 
cp.  supra,  1.  322  ;   but  will  hvacfx^xdrois  bear  this  meaning  ? 

P.  212, 1.  435.  And  parentage.  Pveading*/fa7r'  dfi'wi/,  which 
Beems  to  be  indicated  by  the  Scholion  a^iaiv  olcav  -yovtcuv. 

P.  213,  1.  475.   /  would  have  thee  clear.    Retaining  alpovnai. 

P.  214, 1.  506.  Cries  for  help  to  the  wandering  air.  Literally 
*  suggests  uncertain  remedies  '  in  his  own  case.  This  is  the 
meaning  indicated  by  the  Schohast.  Wecklein,  perhaps 
rightly,  understands  TXrjfiwv  of  the  man  who  is  asked  for 
advice. 


278  NOTES 

P.  220,  1.  715.  Wanton,  ov  Xaxojv.  Bloodgniltiness 
is  the  department  of  the  Erinyes,  not  of  Apollo,  the  god  of 
light.    They  accuse  him  of  encroaching  on  their  prerogative. 

P.  227,  1.  962.  Ownsistersof  our  mother.  fxarpoieaaiyvTiTai. 
Others  understand,  '  Our  sisters  by  one  mother,*  a  less 
natural  meaning  for  the  word.  It  is  unnecessary  to  har- 
monize Aeschylus  with  Hesiod  on  a  point  of  mythology. 
Regarding  Fate  (as  he  does  in  the  Prometheus)  as  inde- 
pendent of  Zeus,  he  may  have  held  that  the  noipai  were 
coeval  with  Night.  The  Furies  call  them  dpxaiai,  supra, 
1.  728. 

P.  228,  1.  988.  Perceive  ye.  Retaining  <ppovovaiy  and 
fiipiffKei. 

Prometheus  Bound. 

P.  243, 1.  303.  Thy  workmanship.  This  seems  a  possible 
meaning  of  axnoKma  •=■  &  avros  fKTiaai.  Others  under- 
stand it  to  mean  '  self-made,'  i.e.  of  natural  formation. 

P.  244,  1.  333.  Though  in  viine  enterprise  thou  too  hadst 
part. 

HavTOjy  fiiraaxi^'V  xal  TtToXfiTjKws  i/ioi. 

Prometheus  had  been  alone,  to  begin  with,  in  openly  gain- 
saying the  plan  of  Zeus  to  destroy  mankind  (1.  234).  But 
he  could  not  have  prevailed  single-handed,  and  in  his  after 
proceedings  it  now  appears  that  Oceanus  was  implicated. 
The  sleepless  one  (1.  139)  must  have  known  of  the  theft  of 
fire,  and  at  least  connived  at  it. 

P.  248, 1.  461.  .  .  .  and  sage  Memory, 

That  wonder-worker,  mother  of  the  Muse. 
Reading  fivrjfj.T]v  *d',aiTa.vTaiv  fxavaofx-qTop'  ipycniv.   According 
to  otliers  (reading  p-v-qpiris  anavrwv)  the  meaning  is  that  the 
invention  of  letters  was  the  means  of  recording  everything, 
and  so  gave  birth  to  the  Muses. 

P.  257,  11.  791  ff.  [Till  first  thou  come,  &c.]  The  lines 
here  bracketed  represent  a  fragment,  which  some  critics 
refer  to  this  place.  At  all  events  there  is  a  lacuna  before 
line  792,  '  Then,  passing  those  rude  waves,'  &c. 

P.  264,  1.  1024.   Of  all  day  long,  not '  of  every  day.'     See 
the  fragment  of  Prometheus  Unbound  translated  by  Cicero 
in  Tusc.  2,  10,  23-25  (Nauck,  Fr.  Aesch.  193): 
'  lam  tertio  me  quoque  funesto  die 
tristi  advolatu  aduncis  lacerans  unguibus 
lovis  satelles  pastu  dilaniat  fero.' 


WOEKS  BY   THE   LATE 

REV.    LEWIS   CAMPBELL, 

Hon.  LL.D.,  Glasgow;  Hon.  D.Litt.,  Oxfokd, 
Emeritus  Professor  of  Greek  in  the  University  of  St.  Aadreio. 


I.    WKITINGS. 

1.  Tragic  Drama  in  Aeschylus,  Sophocles,  and 

Shakespeare.     Smith,  Elder  &  Co.     1904. 

2.  A  Guide  to  Greek  Tragedy.   Kivingtons.  1891. 

3.  Eeligion    in    Greek   Literature.      Longmans. 

1898. 

4.  Plato's    Eepublic,    in   Murray's    Home    and 

School  Library.     1902. 

5.  Life  of  James  Clerk  Maxwell  (with  W.  Gar- 

nett).     Macmillan  (second  edition).     1884. 

6.  Life  of  Benjamin  Jowett  (with  E.   Abbott). 

Murray.     1897. 

7.  The  Christian  Ideal  (Sermons).      Macmillan. 

1877. 

8.  Nationalization   of  the  Old  English  Univer- 

sities.    Chapman  &  Hall.     1900. 


II.    EDITIONS. 

1.  Plato's  Theaetetus.     Clarendon  Press  (second 

edition).     1883. 

2.  Plato's  Sophistes  and  Politicus.      Clarendon 

Press.     1867. 

3.  Plato's  Kepublic  (with  B.  Jowett).     Clarendon 

Press.     1894. 

4.  Sophocles,  Plays  and  Fragments.     Clarendon 

Press.     1879-81. 

5.  Sophocles,    seven    Plaj'S    in    smaller    edition 

(with  E.  Abbott).    Clarendon  Press.    1886. 

6.  Aeschylus,  in  Macmillan's  Parnassus  Series. 

1897. 

7.  Jowett's  Epistles  of  St.  Paul.     Third  edition, 

abridged.      Murray.      1895. 

8.  Jowett's  Theological   Essays  (Selected),  with 

Introduction.     Clarendon  Press.     1906. 

9.  T.  Campbell's  Poems  (Selection),  with  Intro- 

duction,    Golden  Treasui-y    Series.      Mac- 
millan.     1904. 

10.  Letters    of    B.    Jowett    (with    E.    Abbott). 

Murray.     1808. 

III.    TRANSLATIONS. 

1.  Aeschylus,  in  English  Verse.     Kegan  Paul. 

1900. 

2.  Sophocles,  in  English  Verse.    Murray.     1883. 


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A  SERIES  in  constant  progress,  containing  over 
four  hundred  volumes,  and  offering  in  a  size 
adapted  for  the  pocket,  and  at  a  low  price,  the  most 
famous  works  in  the  English  language,  with  more 
than  a  few  translations.  Many  of  the  volumes  con- 
tain introductions  by  the  best  modern  writers. 

POCKET  SIZE,  6x3!  inches  (as  this  list).  Large 
type,  on  thin  opaque  paper,  in  superfine  art  cloth. 

A  NUMBER  of  the  volumes  are  also  obtainable  in 
Pebble  grain  Moroccoette  and  in  Natural  grain 
Morocco.  These  are  specially  recommended  for 
presentation. 

THE  VOLUMES  are  obtainable  through  any  book- 
seller, 

IN  THE  FOLLOWING  LIST  the  books  are  classi- 
fied as  below : 

Anthologies  Letters 

Autobiography  Literary  Criticism 

Biography  Philosophy  and  Science 

Classics-Greek  and  Roman  Poetry 

Drama  Politics,  Political  Theory, 
Essays  and  Belles  Lcttres         and  Political  Economy 

Fiction  (Short  Stories  are  Religion 

grouped  separately)  Short  Stories 

History  Travel  and  Topography 

AN  INDEX  OF  AUTHORS  is  given  at  the  end  of 
the  list. 


THE 
WORLD'S   CLASSICS 

PRINTED  ON  OXFORD  INDIA  PAPER 

The  following  Works  are  obtainable  in  superfine 

maroon  cloth,  gilt  lettered  on  back, 

gilt  top,  and  marker. 

TWO  VOLUMES  IN  ONE 

Borrow.    Lavengro  and  Romany  Rye. 

Maude  (Aylmer).    Life  of  Tolstoy. 

Tolstoy.     Anna  Karenina.     Translated  by  Louise 

and  Aylmer  Maude. 
Trollope.    Last  Chronicle  of  Barset. 
„  Orley  Farm. 

„  Phineas  Finn. 

„  Phineas  Redux. 

The  Prime  Minister, 

THREE  VOLUMES  IN  ONE 

Dante.     The    Divine    Comedy.     Italian    text    and 

translation  by  M.  B.  Anderson. 
English  Short  Stories  (Nineteenth  and  Twentieth 

Centuries). 
Rabelais  (Francois).    Gargantua  aftd  Pantagruel, 
Tolstoy.    War  and  Peace.     Revised  translation  by 

Louise  and  Aylmer  Maude. 


4  ?THE  WORLD'S  CLASSICS' 

COMPLETE  LIST  OF  THE  SERIES 

^  Anthologies 

A  Book  of  American  Verse.  Selected  and  edited  by  A.  C.  Ward 
(428). 

A  Book  of  Narrative  Verse.  Compiled  by  V.  H.  Collins.  Intro- 
duction by  Edmund  Blunden  (350). 

A  Book  of  Scottish  Vfrse.     Compiled  by  R.  L.  Mackie  (417). 

American  Criticism.  Representative  Literary  Essays.  Chosen 
by  Norman  Foerster  (354). 

English  Essays,  chosen  and  arranged  by  W.  Peacock  (32). 

English  Essays,  i 600-1 900,  chosen  by  S.  V.  Makower  and  B.  H. 
Blackwell  (172). 

English  Essays,  Modern.  Two  Series.  Selected  by  H.  S. 
Milford(2So,  406). 

English  Prose  from  mandeville  to  ruskin,  chosen  and  arranged 
by  W.  Peacock  (45). 

English  Prose,  chosen  and  arranged  by  W.  Peacock  in  5  volumes : 

I,  WYCLIFFE  to  clarendon  ;  II,  MILTON  to  GRAY;  III,  WAL- 
POI.K  to  LAMB  ;  IV,  LANDOR  tO  HOLMES;  V,  MRS.  GASKELL  tO 
HENRY  JAMES  (2 1 9-23). 

English  Prose,  Narrative,  Descriptive,  Dramatic  (malory  to 
STEVENSON),  Compiled  by  //.  A.  Treble  (204). 

English  Songs  and  Ballads,  compiled  by  T.  W.  //.  Crosland, 
New  edition,  with  the  text  revised,  and  additional  poems  (13). 

English  Short  Stories  (Nineteenth  and  Twentieth  Centuries), 
selected  by  H.  S.  Milford.     Three  Series  (193,  228,  315). 

English  Verse.  Edited  by  IF.  Peacor*.  I,  Early  Lyrics  to  Shake- 
speare (308);   II,  campion  to  the  Ballads  (309);   III,  dryden 

to  WORDSWORTH  (310);  IV,  SCOTT  tO  ELIZABETH  DROWNING 
(311);    V,  LONGFELLOW  tO  RUPERT  BROOKE  (3  I  2). 

Letters  written  in  War-time  (Fifteenth  to  Nineteenth  Cen- 
turies), selected  and  arranged  by  //.  Wragg  (202). 

A  Miscellany  of  Tracts  and  Pamphlets.  Sixteenth  to  Nine- 
teenth Centuries.    Edited  by  ^.  C  H'art^ (304). 

Palgr-We's  Golden  Treasury,  with  1 88  pages  of  additional  poems 
from  LANDOR  to  blunden  (133). 

Reading  at  Random.  A  '  World's  Classics'  Anthology.  Edited 
by  Ben  Ray  Redman  (410). 

\  Autobiography 

Aksakoff(Serghei).  TtAns.hy  J.  D.  Duff.  A  Russian  Gentleman 
(241).   Years  of  Childhood  (242).    A  Russian  Schoolboy  (261). 

Cellini  (Benvenuto)  (300). 

De  Quincey  (Thomas).   Confessions  of  an  Opium-Eater  (23). 

Franklin  (Benjamin).  The  Autobiography,  edited  from  his 
origmal  manuscript  by  John  Bigelow  (250). 

Gibbon  (Edward).  Autobiography.  Introduction  by  J.  jB.  .Bur^ 
(139). 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY.    BIOGRAPHY.    THE  'CLASSICS'      j 

Haydon  (Benjamin  Robert).  The  Autobiography.  Introduc- 
tion and  Epilogue  by  Edmund  Blunden  (,314). 

Hunt  (Leigh).    Autobiography.    Intro.  Edmund  Blunden  (329). 

Mill  (John  Stuart).  Autobiography.  Introductionby  Haro/J  J. 
Laski  (262). 

Tolstoy.  A  Confession,  and  What  I  believe.  Translated  by 
Avlmer  Maude  (229).  Recollections  and  Essays.  Translated 
with  an  Introduction  by  Aylmcr  Maude  (459). 

Trollope  (Anthony).  Autobiography.  Introduction  by 
Michael  Sadleir  (239). 


^  Biography 

Carlyle.    The  Life  of  John  Sterling.    Introduction  by  W.  Hale 

White  ('  Mark  Rutherford  ')  (144). 
Crabbe,  Life  of.     By  his  Son.     Introduction  by  E.  M.  Forster 

(404). 
DoBSON    (Austin).      Four    Frenchwomen:    Charlotte    Corday, 

Madame  Roland,  Princess  de   Lamballe,  Madame  de  Genhs 

(24S). 
Emerson.    Representative  Men.    (With  English  Traits)  (30). 
Francis  of  Assisi  (St.).     The  Little  Flowers;  and  The  Life  of 

Brother  Giles.    Translated  into  English  verse  by  James  Rhoades 

(26s). 
Gaskell  (Mrs.).    The  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte  (zi-y). 
Houghton  (Lord).     Life  of  Keats  (364). 
Johnson  (Samuhl).    Lives  of  the  Poets.    2  vols.  (83,  84). 
Maude  (Aylmer).    Life  of  Tolstoy.    2  vols.  (3S3,  384). 
Scott  (Sir  Walter).    Lives  of  the  Novelists.     Introduction  by 

Austin  Dobson  (q^). 
Trevelyan  (Sir  G.  O.).     Life  of  Macaulay.     With  a  new  Intro- 
duction by  G.  M.  Trevelyan.     2  vols.  (401,  402). 
Walton  (Izaak).     Lives  of  Donne,  Wotton,  Hooker,  Herbert, 

Sanderson.    Introduction  by  George  Saintsbury  (303). 

^  The  '  Classics  ',  Greek  and  Roman 

Aeschylus.    The  Seven  Plays.    Translated  into  English  Verse  by 

Lewis  Campbell  (117).  . 

Aristophanes.     The   Acharnians,   Knights,   Birds,   and   rrogs. 

Translated  hy  jf.  Hookham  Frere.     Intro.  W.  W.  Merry  {134,). 
Homer.    Translated  by  Pop^.     Iliad  (18).    Odyssey  (36). 
Sophocles.    The  Seven  Plays.   Translated  into  English  Verse  by 

Lev)is  Campbell  {lib).  .        lu 

Virgil.     The  Aeneid,  Georgics,  and  Eclogues.     Iransiated  by 

Joiin  Dryden  (37).  ,        ,    , 
The    Aeneid,    Georgics,    and    Eclogues.      Translated    bj 

James  Riioades  (227). 


6  '  THE  WORLD'S  CLASSICS  ' 

^  Drama 

Browning  (Robert).    Poems  and  Plays,  1833-42  (58). 

CoNGREVE  (William).  Complete  Works.  2  vols.  Introduction  by 
Bonamy  Dobrde.  I,  The  Comedies.  II,  The  Mourning  Bride, 
with  Letters,  Poems,  and  Miscellanies  (276,  277). 

Eighteenth  Century  Comedy,  farquhar's  Beaux'  Stratagem, 
Steele's  Conscious  Lovers,  gay's  Beggar's  Opera,  Fielding's 
Tom  Thumb,  goldsmith's  She  Stoops  to  Conquer  (292). 

Eighteenth  Century,  Lesser  Comedies  of  the.  Edited  by 
Allardyce  NicoU  The  five  comedies  are  Arthur  murphy's  The 
Way  to  keep  him,  George  colman's  The  Jealous  Wife,  mrs. 
INChbald's  Everyone  has  his  Fault,  thomas  Morton's  Speed 
the  Plough,  and  Frederick  reynoi.ds's  The  Dramatist  (321). 

Five  Elizabethan  Comedies.  Edited  by  ^. /C.  il/c//KTaj7/i.  Con- 
tains Greene's  Friar  Bacon  and  Friar  Bungay,  peele's  The  Old 
Wives*  Tale,  lyly's  Campaspe,  dekker's  Shoemaker's  Holiday, 
and  the  anonymous  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton  (422). 

Five  Pre-Shakespearean  Comedies.  Edited  by  F.  5.  Boas.  Con- 
tains mfdwall's  Fulgensand  Lucrece,  heywood's  The  Four  PP., 
udall's  Ralph  Roister  Doister,the  anonymous  Gammer Gurton's 
Needle,  and  gascoigne's  Supposes  (418). 

Goethe.  Faust,  Parts  I  and  II.  Translated  by  Bayard  Taylor. 
Intro,  by  Marshall  Mo7itgomery  and  notes  hy  Douglas  Yates  (jSo). 

Ibsen.  Henrik.  Peer  Gynt.  Trans,  with  an  Introduction  by 
R.  Ellis  Roberts  (446). 

Marlowe's  Dr.  Faustus  (with  Goethe's  Faust,  Part  I,  trans. 
y.  Atister).    Introduction  by  Sir  A.  W.  Wardd^s)- 

Kestor.\tion  Tragedies,  dr yden's  All  for  Love,  otw.\y's  Venice 
Preserved,  southerne's  Oronooko,  rowe's  Fair  Penitent,  and 
Addison's  Cato.    Introduction  by  Bonamy  Dohrie  (313). 

Shakespeare.  Plays  and  Poems.  Preface  by  A.  C.  Swinburne. 
Introductions  by  Edward  Dozcden.  9  vols.  Comedies.  3  vols. 
(too,  ioi,  102).  Histories  and  Poems.  3  vols.  (103,  104,  105). 
Tragedies.     3  vols.  (io6,  107,  108). 

Shakespeare,  Six  Plays  by  Contemporaries  of.  dekker.  The 
.Shoemaker's  Holiday;  Webster,  The  White  Devil;  Beau- 
mont and  FLETCHER,  The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle,  and 
Philaster ;  Webster,  The  Duchess  of  Malfi ;  massinger,  A 
New  Way  to  pay  Old  Debts.     Edited  by  C.  B.  Wheeler  (199). 

Sheridan.     Plays.    Introduction  by  Jo^^M '>^'''^''' (79)- 

Tolstoy.  The  Plays.  Complete  edition,  including  the  posthu- 
mous plays.    Translated  by  Louise  and  Aylmcr  Maude  (243). 

^  Essays  and  Belles  Lettres 

Bacon.    The  Essays,  Civil  and  Moral  (24). 

Carlyle.    On  Heroes  and  Hero  Worship  (62).    Past  and  Present. 

Introduction  by  G.  K.  Chesterton  (153).    Sartor  Resartus  (19). 
DoB.soN  (Austin).  At  Prior  Park,  &c,  (2.^9).   Eighteenth-Century 

Vignettes.    Three  facnes  (.245-7).     Four  Frenchwomen  (248). 


ESSAYS  AND  BELLES  LETTRES  7 

Old  Kensington  Palace,  &c.(  25  8).  A  Paladin  of  Philanthropy,  &c. 

(256).    Rosalba's  Journal,  &c.  (260).    Side- Walk  Studies  (257). 
Emerson.    English  Traits,  and  Representative  Men  (30).    Essays, 

Two  Series  (6). 
English  Critical  Essays.    3  volunnes :  I,  Sixteenth  to  Eighteenth 

Centuries;   II,  Nineteenth  Century;   III,  Twentieth  Century 

(240,  206,  405). 
English  Essays,  chosen  and  arranged  by  IV.  Peacock  (32). 

(A  Book  of),  1600-igoo  (172). 

Modern.  Two  Series.    Selected  by//.  5.  Mi7/or(i( 280, 406). 

English  Prose,    mandeville  to  ruskin.    Chosen  by  IV.  Peacock 

(45).    Also  a  selection  in  5  volumes  by  the  same  editor :   I,  WY- 

CLIFFBtOCLARENDON{2I9);  II,  MILTON  tO  GRAY  (22o);  III.WAL- 
POLB  to  LAMB  (  22 1 ) ;  IV,  LANDOR  tO  HOLME3(222)  ;  V,  MRS.  GASKELL 
to  HENRY  JAMES  (223). 

English  Prose.    Narrative,  Descriptive,  and  Dramatic  (204). 

Froude(J.  a.).    Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects.    Series  I  (269). 

Hazlitt  (William).  Characters  of  Shakespeare's  Plays  (205). 
The  English  Comic  Writers  (124).  Sketches  and  Essays. 
Essays  on  Men  and  Manners  (15).  Table-Talk  (5),  The  Spirit 
of  the  Age  (57).     Winterslow  (25). 

Holmes  (Oliver  Wendell).  The  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast- 
Table  (61).  The  Poet  at  the  Breakfast- Table  (95).  The  Pro- 
fessor at  the  Breakfast-Table  (89). 

Hornb  (R.  H.).    A  New  Spirit  of  the  Age  (127). 

Hunt  (Leigh).     Essays  and  Sketches  (115). 

Irving  (Washington).    The  Sketch  Book  (173). 

Lamb.    Essays  of  Llia,  and  The  Last  Essays  of  Elia  (2). 

Landor.     Imaginary  Conversations.    Selected  (196). 

Milton.  Selected  Prose.  Introduction  by  Malcolm  W.  Wallace 
(293)- 

Montaigne's  Essays.    Florio's  translation.     3  vols.  (65,  70,  77). 

Reynolds  (Sir  Joshua).     The  Discourses,  &c.  (149). 

Ruskin.  (Ruskin  House  Editions,  by  arrangement  with  Messrs, 
Allen  &  Univin,  Ltd.)  'A  Joy  for  Ever',  and  The  Two  Paths. 
Illustrated  (147).  Sesame  and  Lilies,  and  Ethics  of  the  Dust 
(145).  Time  and  Tide,  and  The  Crown  of  Wild  Olive  (146). 
Unto  this  Last,  and  Munera  Pulveris  (148). 

Rutherford  (Mark).    Pages  from  a  Journal  (358). 

Smith  (Alexander).    Dreamthorp,  &c.  (200). 

Smollett.    Travels  through  France  and  Italy  (90). 

Sterne  (Laurence).  A  Sentimental  Journey.  Introduction  by 
Virginia  Wool/ (223). 

Stevenson  (R.  L.).    Virginibus  Puerisque,  and  Across  the  Plains 

(2q6). 

Thoreau.    Walden  (68). 

Tolstoy.    Translated  by  A.  Maude.    'What  is  Art?'  and  Essays 

on   Art   (331)-     Recollections   and    Essays.     Translated   with 

an  Introduction  by  A.  Maude  (459). 


8  'THE  WORLD'S  CLASSICS' 

Tracts  and  Pamphlets,  from  john  knox  to  h.  g.  wells  (304). 

Walton  and  Cotton.    The  Compleat  Angler.     Introduction  by 

John  Buchan  (430). 
White  (Gilbert).    The  Natural  History  of  Selbome.    With  16 

illustrations  by  E.  H.  Nezv  (22). 
Whitman.     Specimen  Days  in  America  (371). 

^  Fiction     (For  Short  Stories  see  separate  heading) 

AiNSWORTH  (W.  Harrison).     The  Tower  of  London  (162). 
Austen  (Jane).   Emma  (129).    Pride  and  Prejudice  (335).   Mans- 
field Park  (345).    Northanger  Abbey  (355).    Persuasion  (356). 

Sense  and  Sensibility  (389). 
Blackmore(R.  D.).    Lorna  Doone.    Introduction  by  SjV  WerJcr/ 

Warren  (171). 
Borrow  (George).    Lavengro  (66).    The  Romany  Rye  (73). 
Bronte  (Anne).    Agnes  Grey  (141).    Tenant  of  Wildfell  Hall 

(67). 
Bronte  (Charlotte).  Jane  Eyre  (i).   Shirley(i4).   Villette  (47). 

The  Professor,  and  the  Poems  of  the  Brontes  (78). 
Bronte  (Emily).    W'uthering  Heights  (10). 
Bunyan.     The  Pilgrim's  Progress  (12).     Mr.  Badman  (338). 
Butler  (Samuel).     The  Way  of  all  Flesh.     With  an  Essay  by 

Bernard  Sliaw  (438). 
Cervantes.    Don  Quixote,    2  volumes  (130,  131). 
CoBnOLD  (Rev.  Richard).     M.nrgaret  Catchpole  (119). 
Collins  (Wilkie).     The  Moonstone.     Introduction  by   T.  S. 

Eliot  (316).     The  Woman  in  White  (226). 
Cooper  (J.  Fenimore).    The  Last  of  the  Mohicans  (163). 
Defoe.    Captain  Singleton  (82).    Robinson  Crusoe.    Part  I  (17). 
Dickens.    Barnaby  Rudge(286).    Christmas  Books  (307).  Edwin 

Drood  (263).    Great  Expectations  (128).     Hard  Times  (264). 

Old  Curiosity  Shop  (270).    Oliver  Twist  (8).    Pickwick  Papers. 

2  volumes  (120,  121).    Tale  of  Two  Cities  (38). 
Disraeli  (Benjamin).    Coningsby  (381).    Syb:l(29i). 
Eliot  (George).    Adam  Bede  (63).    Felix  Holt  (179).    The  Mill 

on  the  Floss  (31).  Romola  (178).  Scenes  of  Clerical  Life  (155). 

Silas  Marner,  &c.  (80). 
Fielding.    Jonathan  Wild  (382).    Joseph  Andrews  (334). 
Galt    (John).     The    Entail.     Introduction   by  Jolm   Ayscough 

(177). 
Gaskell  (Mrs.).     Cousin  Phillis,  and  Other  Tales,  &c.  (168). 

Cranford,  The  Cage  at  Cranford,  and  The  Moorland  Cottage 

(110).    Liz7.ie  Leigh,  The  Grey  Woman,  and  Other  Tales,  &c. 

(17s).     Mary  Barton  (S6).     North  and  South  (154).     Right  at 

Last,   and  Other  Tales,   &c.  (203).     Round  the   Sofa  (190). 

Ruth  (88).    Sylvia's  Lovers  ( I  56).    Wives  and  Daughters (157). 
Goldsmith.    The  Vicar  of  Wakefield  (4). 
Harris  (Joel  Chandler).    LTncle  Remus  (361). 
Hawthorne.     House  of  the  Seven  Gables  (273).    The  Scarlet 

Letter  (26).    Tales  (319). 


FICTION  9 

Holme  (Constance).     Beautiful  End  (431).     Crump  Folk  going 

Honie(4i9).    He-who-came  ?  (440).   Tne  Lone, y  Plough  (390). 

The  Uld  Road  from  Spain  (400).    The  Splendid  Fairing  (416). 

The  Things  which  Belong (425).      The  Trumpet  in  the 

Dust  (409).     The  Wisdom  of  the  Simple  (453). 
KiNGSLEY  (Henry).     Geotfry  Hamlyn  (271).     Ravenstioe  (267). 

Austin  Elliot  (407). 
La  Motte  Fouque.     Undine,  Sintram,  &c.  (408). 
LeFanu(J.S.>.    Uncie  Silas.    Intro,  hy  Montague  R.jfames  (,306). 
Lesage.    Gil  Bias.    Edited  jf.  Fitzmaurice-Kelly.    2  vols.  (151, 

152). 
Marryat.    Mr.  Midshipman  Easy  (160).    Jacob  Faithful  (439)- 
Melville  (Herman).     Moby  Dick  (225).     Typee  (274).     Omoo 

(27s).     White  Jacket  (253).  ^  ,   c,  ^ 

MoRiER  (J.  J.).     Hajji  Baba  (238).    Hajji  Baba  in  England  (285). 
Peacock  (T.  L.).     Headlong  Hall  ;  and  Nmhtmare  Abbey  (339-) 

Misfortunes  of  Elphin;  and  Crotchet  Castle  (244). 
R.\belais.    Gargantua  and  Pantagruel.    Translated  by  Urquhart 

and  Motteux,  with  notes  and  map.     3  volumes  (411-13). 
Scott.     Ivanhoe  (29). 

Smollett.    Roderick  Random  (353).    Humphry  Clinker  (290). 
Sterne.    Sentimental  Journey  (333).    Tristram  Shandy  (40). 
Stevenson  (R.  L.).   Kidnapped ;  aad  Catriona  (297).  The  Master 

of  Bailantrae  (441).    Treasure  Island  I295) 
Stuhgis  (Howard).  Bekhamber.  Intro,  by  Gerard  Hopkins  (429). 
Swift.    Gulliver's  Travels  (20). 
Swinnerton  (Frank).    Nocturne.    With  a  new  Introduction  by 

the  Author  (460). 
Taylor  (Meadows).    Confessions  of  a  Thug  (207). 
Thackeray.    Henry  Esmond  (28). 

Tolstoy.  Translated  by  Louise  and  Aylmer  Maude.  Anna 
Karenina.  2  volumes  (210,  21 1).  Childhood,  Boyhood,  and 
Youth  (352).  The  Cossacks,  &c.  (208).  Ivdn  Ilych,  and  Hadji 
Murdd  (432).  The  Kreutzer  Sonata,  Sec.  (266).  Resurrection, 
trans,  by  L.iV/au(f<?( 209).  Twenty-three  Tales  (72).  War  and 
Peace.     3  volumes  (233-5).  ^  w       s      n 

Trollope.  American  Senator  (391).  Ayala  s  Angel  (342).  Bar- 
chester Towers (268).  The  Belton  Estate(25i).  TheClaverings 
(252).  Cousin  Henry  (343).  Doctor Thorne(298).  Dr.Wortle's 
SchooI(3i7).  The  Eustace  Diamonds  (357J.  Framley  Parsonage 
(305).  TheKellysand  the  O'Kellys  (341).  Lady  Anna  (443). 
Last  Chronicle  of  Barset.  2  vols.  (398,  399)-  Miss  Mackenzie 
{278).  Orley  Farm.  2  vols.  (423,  424).  Phineas  Finn.  2  vols. 
(447,  448).  Phineas  Redux.  2  vols.  (450,  451).  The  Prime 
Minister  (454-5).  Rachel  Ray  (279).  Sir  Harry  Hotspur  (336). 
Tales  of  all  Countries  (397).  The  Three  Clerks  (140).  The 
Warden  (217).  The  Vicar  of  Bullhampton  (272). 
Watts-Dunton  (Theodore).  Avlwin  (52). 
Wharton  (Edith).  The  House  of  Mirth.  With  a  new  Introduc- 
tion by  the  Author  (437). 


lo  'THE  WORLD'S  CLASSICS' 

^  History 

Barrow  (Sir  John).    The  Mutiny  of  the  Bounty  (195). 
Buckle.    The  History  of  Civilization.    3  volumes  (41,  48,  53); 
Carlyle.    The  French  Revolution.     Introduction  by  C  R.  L: 

Fletcher.     2  volumes  (125,  126). 
Froude  (J.  A.).    Short  Studies  on  Great  Subjects.    Series  I  (269); 
Gibbon.    Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire.    With  Maps. 

7  volumes  (35,  44,  51,  55.  64,  69,  74). 
Irving  (Washington).     Conquest  of  Granada  (150). 
Macaulay.     History  of  England      5  volumes  (366-70). 
Motley.    Rise  of  the  Dutch  RepuDlic.    3  volumes  (96,  97,  98). 
Prescott(W.H.).    The  Conquest  of  Mexico.    2  vols.  (197, 198). 

^  Letters 

Burke.   Letters.   Selected,  with  Introduction,  by //.J.  L<7i*«  (237); 
Chesterfield.     Letters.     Selected,   with    an    Introduction,   by 

Phyllis  M.  Jones  (347). 
CONGREVE.     Letters,  in  Volume  II.    See  under  Drama  (277). 
CowPCR.     Letters.     Selected,  with  Intro.,  by  E.  V.  Lucas  (138); 
DuFFERiN  (Lord).  Letters  from  High  Latitudes.  Illustrated  (158). 
Gray  (Thomas).    Letters.    Selected  hy  John  Beresford  (283). 
Johnson  (Samuel).     Letters.     Selected,  with  Introduction,  by 

R.  W.  Chat»nnn  (282). 
Southey.     Selected  Letters  (169X 
White  (Gilbert).     The  Natural   History  of  Selborne.     With 

16  illustrations  by  E.  H.  New  (22). 

^  Literary  Criticism 

American  Criticism.  Representative  Literary  Essays.  Chosen 
by  Norman  Foerster  (354)- 

Coleridge  (S  T.)    Lectures  on  Shakespeare  (363). 

English  Critical  Essays.  Selected  and  edited  by  Edmund  D. 
Jones.  2  volumes:  I,  Sixteenth  to  Eighteenth  Centuries  (240); 
II.  Nineteenth  Century  (206). 

Hazlitt  (William).  Characters  of  Shakespeare's  Plays.  Intro- 
duction by  Sir  A.  T.  Quiller-Couch  (205).  Lectures  on  the 
English  Comic  Writers.  Introduction  by  R.  Brimley  Johnson 
(124).  Lectures  on  the  English  Poets  (255).  The  Spirit  of  the 
Age.    (Essays  on  his  contemporaries)  (57). 

Horne  (R.  H.).     a  New  Spirit  of  the  Age  (127). 

Johnson  (Samuel).    Lives  of  the  Poets.     2  volumes  (83,  84). 

More  (Paul  Elmer).    Selected  Shelburne  Essays  (434)-  . 

Sainte-Beuve.  Causeries  du  Lundi.  (In  English.)  Two  Series 
(372—3). 

Shakespeare  Criticism,  (heminge  and  condell  to  carlylb.) 
Selected  and  introduced  by  D.  Nichol  Smith  (212). 

Shakespeare  Criticism  (1919-1935).  Selected  and  introduced 
by  Anne  Bradby  (436). 


SCIENCE  AND  POETRY  ii 

^  Philosophy  and  Science 
(For  Political  Theory  and  Religion  see  separate  headings) 

AuRELius  (Marcus).  Thoughts.  Translated  by  Jo/jn^acfoon (60); 
Bacon.     The  Advancement  of  Learning,  and  the  New  Atlantis. 

Introduction  by  Professor  Case  (93).    Essays  (24). 
Carlyle.     Sartor  Resartus  ( I  g). 
Darwin.    The  Origin  of  Species.    With  a  new  preface  by  Major 

Leonard  Darzuin  (11). 
Reynolds  (Sir  Joshua).  Discourses,  &c.   Introduction  by  yl.Dofi- 

SOn  f  I4Q). 

Tolstoy.    What  then  must  we  do?    Trains,  hy  A.  Maude  (2^1). 
White  (Gilbert).    The  Natural  History  of  Selborne.    With  16 
illustrations  by  E.  H.  New  (22). 

^  Poetry 

Arnold  (Matthew).    Poems,  1849-67(85). 

Barham  (Richard).    The  Ingoldsby  Legends  (9); 

Blake  (William).    Selected  Poems  (324). 

Bronte  Sisters,  The.  The  Professor,  by  charlotte  bronte,  and 
Poems  by  charlotte,  emily,  and  anne  bronte  (78). 

Browning  (Elizabeth  Barrett).    Poems.    A  Selection  (176). 

Browning  (Robert).  Poems  and  Plays,  1833-42  (58).  Potms, 
1842-64  (137). 

Burns  (Robert).     Poems  (34).     Complete  and  in  large  type. 

Byron.    Poems.    A  Selection  (180). 

Chaucer,  The  Works  of.  3  volumes:  1(42);  11(56);  III,  con- 
taining the  whole  of  the  Canterbury  Tales  (76). 

Coleridge.  Poems.  Introductionhy  Sir  A. T.Quiller-Couchiqq). 

Congreve  (William).  Complete  works  in  2  volumes.  Intro- 
ductions by  Bonamy  Dobree.  I,  The  Comedies  (27b);  II,  The 
Mourning  Bride,  Poems,  Miscellanies  and  Letters  (277). 

Dante.     Italian  text  and  English  verse-translation  by  Melville  B. 
Anderson,  on  facing  pages,  with  notes.     3  vols.  (392-4). 
Translation  only,  with  notes,  in  one  volume  (395). 

Dobson  (Austin).    Selected  Poems  (249). 

English  Songs  and  Ballads.  Compiled  by  T.  W.  H.  Crosland. 
New  edition,  with  revised  text  and  additional  poems,  1927  (13). 

English  Verse.  Vols.  I-V :  Early  Lyrics  to  Shakespeare  ;  cam- 
pion to  the  Ballads ;  dryden  to  Wordsworth  ;  scott  to  e.  b. 
browning  ;  LONGFELLOW  tO  RUPERT  BROOKE.  Edited  by  William 
Peacock  (308-3 1 2). 

Francis  of  Assisi  (St.).  The  Little  Flowers  of  St.  Francis, 
Translated  into  English  Verse  by  James  Rhoades  (265). 

Goethe.  Faust,  Parts  I  and  II.  Translated  by  Bayard  Taylor. 
Intro,  hy  Marshall  Montgomery  a.nd  notes  by  Douglas  Faiei(38o). 

Golden  Treasury,  The.    With  additional  Poems  (133). 

Goldsmith.    Poems.    IniToiluctionhy  Austin  Dobson  (12'i). 

Herbert  (George).  Poems.  Introduction  by  .i4rt/)ur  Waiigh{io<ji). 

Herrick  (Robert).    Poems  (16), 


12  'THE  WORLD'S  CLASSICS  ' 

Homer.    Translated  by  Po^e.    Iliad  (i8).    Odyssey  (36). 

Hood.    Poems.    Introduction  hy  Walter  Jerroid  (Sj). 

Ibsen.    Peer  Gynt.    Translated  by  R.  Ellis  Roberts  (446). 

Keats.    Poems  (7). 

Keble.    The  Christian  Year  (181). 

Longfellow.     Hiawatha,  Miles   Standish,  Tales  of  a  Wayside 

Inn,  Sec.  (174). 
Macaulay.    Lays  of  Ancient  Rome  ;    Ivry  ;   The  Armada  (27). 
Marlowe.    Dr.    Faustus   (with   goethe's   Faust,    Part  I,  trans. 

y.  Anster).     Introduction  by  Sir  A.  W.  H'artf  (135). 
Milton.    The  English  Poems  (1S2). 
Morris  (Willia.m).    The  Defence  of  Guenevere,  Life  and  Death 

of  Jason,  and  other  Poems  (183). 
Narrative   Verse,  A  Book  of.     Compiled   by   V.  H.  Collins. 

With  an  Introduction  by  Edmund  Blunden  (350). 
Nekrassov.  Trans,  hy  Juliet  Soskice.  Who  can  be  happy  and  free 

in  Russia  ?    A  Poem  (213).    Poems  (340). 
Palgrave.    The  Golden  Treasury.    With  additional  Poems  (133). 
Rossetti  (Christina).    Goblin  Market,  &c.  (184). 
Scott  (Sir  Walter).    Selected  Poems  (186). 
Scottish  Verse,  A  Book  of.     Compiled  by  R.  L.  Mackie  (417). 
Shakespeare.     Plays  and  Poems.     Preface  by  A.  C.  Swinburne. 

Introductions  by  Edward  Dowden.     g  volumes.    Comedies.    3 

volumes  (100,   loi,    102).     Histories  and  Poems.     3  volumes 

(103,  104,  105).    Tragedies.     3  volumes  (106,  107,  108). 
Shelley.    Poems.    A  Selection  (187). 

Tennyson.     Selected  Poems.     Intro,  hy  Sir  Herbert  Warren  {3). 
Virgil.     The  Aeneid,  Georgics,  and  Eclogues.     Translated  by 

Dryden  (37).    Translated  hy  James  Rhoades  (227). 
Wells  (Charles).    Joseph  and  his  Brethren.    A  Dramatic  Poem. 

Intro,  by  A.  C.  Swinburne,  and  Note  by  T.  Watts-Dunton{  143). 
Whitman.    A  Selection.    Introduction  by  £.</«  5t7/«couri  (218). 
Whittier.     Poems:    A  Selection  (188). 
Wordsworth.     Poems:  A  Selection  (189). 

^  Politics,  Political  Economy,  Political  Theory 

Bagehot  (Walter).  The  English  Constitution.  With  an  Intro- 
duction by  the  Earl  of  Balfour  (330). 

Buckle.    The  History  of  Civilization.    3  volumes  (41,  48,  53). 

Burke  (Edmund).  Letters.  Selected,  with  an  Introduction,  by 
Harold  J.  Laski  (237).  Works.  6  volumes.  I:  .A.  Vindica- 
tion of  Natural  Society;  The  Sublime  and  Beautiful,  &c.  (71). 
II:  The  Present  Discontents;  and  Speeches  and  Letters  on 
America  (81).  Ill :  Speeches  on  India,  &c.  (11 1).  IV:  Writings 
on  France,  1790-1  (i  12).  V  :  Writingson  Ireland, &c. (113).  VI: 
A  Letter  to  a  Noble  Lord;  and  Letters  on  a  Regicide  Peace (11 4). 

English  Si'Eeches,  from  burke  to  Gladstone.  Selected  and 
edited  by  E.  R.Jones  (191). 

Macaulay.  Speeches.  Selected,  with  Introduction  and  footnotes, 
by  G.  M.  Young  (433). 

Wachiavelli.    The  Prmce  (43). 


POLITICS,  RELIGION,  ETC,  13 

Maine  (Sir  Henry).     Ancient  Law  (362). 

Mill  (John  Stuart).  On  Liberty,  Representative  Government, 
and  the  Subjection  of  Women  (170). 

Milton(John).  Selected  Prose.  Intro.Malcolm  W.Wallace  {203)- 

RUSKIN.  'A  Joy  for  Ever '.and  The  Two  Paths.  Illustrated  (147). 
Time  and  Tide,  and  The  Crown  of  Wild  Olive  (146)-  Unto 
this  Last,  and  Munera  Pulveris  (148). 

Smith  (Adam).    The  Wealth  of  Nations.    2  volumes  (54,  59). 

Speeches  and  Documents  on  International  Aefairs  (19x8-37). 
Ed.  A.  B.  Keith.    2  volumes  (457-8). 

Speeches  and  Documents  on  British  Colonial  Policy  (1763^ 
1917).    Ed.  A.  B.  Keith.     2  volumes  (215,  216). 

Speeches  AND  Documents  on  the  British  Dominions,  1918-31. 
Selected,  with  Introduction,  by  A.  B.  Keith  (403). 

Speeches  and  Documents  on  Indian  Policy  (1756-1921). 
Edited,  with  Introduction,  by  A.  B.  Keith  (231,  232). 

Speeches  on  British  Foreign  Policy  (1738-1914).  Edited  by 
Edgar  R.  Jones,  M.P.  (201). 

Tolstoy.  What  then  must  we  do  ?  Translated,  with  an  Intro- 
duction, by  Avlmer  Maude  (281). 

Tracts  and  Pamphlets,  A  Miscellany  of.  Sixteenth  to  Nine- 
teenth Centuries.     Edited  by  A.  C.  Ward  (304). 

^  Religion 

The  Old  Testament.    Revised  Version.    4  vols.  (385-8). 

Apocrypha,  The,  in  the  Revised  Version  (294). 

The  Four  Gospels,  and  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.    Authorized 

Version  (344). 
The  New  Testament.    Revised  Version  (346). 
X  Kempis  (Thomas).    Of  the  Imitation  of  Christ  (49). 
Aurelius  (Marcus).    Translated  by  John  Jackson  (60). 
Bunyan.   The  Pilgrim's  Progress  (12).    Mr.  Badman  (338). 
Confucius.  The  Analects.  Trans,  by  W.  E.  Soothill.  Introduction 

by  Ladv  Hosie  (442). 
Koran,  The.    Translated  by  E.  H.  Palmer.     Introduction  by 

Reynold  A.  Nicholson  (328). 
Tolstoy.    Translated  by   Aylmer  Maude.     A  Confession,  and 

What  I  believe  (229).     On  Life,  and  Essays  on  Religion  (426). 

The  Kingdom  of  God,  and  Peace  Essays  (445). 


1 


Short  Stories 

Africa,  Stories  of.     Chosen  by  E.  C.  Parmvell  (359). 
Austrian  Short  Stories.     Selected  and  translated  by  Marie 

Busch  (337). 
Crime  and  Detection.    Two  Series  (301,  351).    Stories  by  h.  c. 

bailey,  ERNEST  BRAMAH,  G.  K.  CHESTERTON,  SIR  A.  CONAN  DOYLB, 
R.  AUSTIN   FREEMAN,  W.  W.  JACOBS,   EDEN   PHILPOTTS,  '  SAPPER*, 

DOROTHY  SAYhRS,  and  others. 
Czech  Tales,  Selected.    Translated  by  Marie  Busch  and  Otto 
Pick  (288).     Nine  stories,   including    two    by  the   brothers 

CAPEK. 


14  'THE  WORLD'S  CLASSICS' 

Dickens.     Christmas  Books  (307). 

English  Short  Stories.     Three  Series.     Selected  by   H.  S. 

Milford.     Introduction  by  Prof.  Hugh  Walker  in  Vol.  I  (193. 

228,  31 1;). 
French  Short  Stories.     Eighteenth  to  Twentieth   Centunes. 

Selected  and  translated  by  K.  Rebillon  Lambley  (396). 
Gaskell  (Mrs.).      Introductions   by  Clement  Shorter.     Cousin 

Phillis,   and    Other   Tales   (168).      Lizzie   Leigh,   The   Grey 

Woman,  and  Other  Tales.  &c.  ( 175).    Right  at  Last,  and  Other 

Tales,  &c.  (203).     Round  the  Sofa  ( i go). 
German  Short  Stories.    Translated  by  E.  N.  Bennett,  with  an 

Introduction  by  E.  K.  Bennett  (415). 
Ghosts  and  Marv-els  and  More  Ghosts  and  Marvels.    Two 

Selections  of  Uncanny  Tales  made  by  V.  H.  Collins.     Intro- 
duction by  Montague  R.  James  in  Series  I  (284,  323). 
Harte  (Bret).    Short  Stories  (318). 
Hawthorne  (Nathaniel^.    Tales  (3 19). 
Irving  (Washington).    Tales  (320). 
Modern  Gekman  Short  Stories.    Trans,  by  H.  Steinhauer  and 

Helen  Jessiman,  with  an  Introduction  by  //.  Steinhauer  (456). 
Persian  (From  the).    The  Three  Dervishes,  and  Other  Stories, 

Translated  from  MSS.  in  the  Bodleian  by  Reuben  Levy  (254). 
Foe  (Edgar  Allan).    Tales  of  Mystery  and  Imagination  (21). 
Polish  Tales  uy  Modern  .\uthors.    Translated  by  Else  C.  M. 

Beneckc  and  Marie  Busch  (230). 
Russian  Short  Stories.     Chosen  and  translated  by  A.  E.  Chamot 

(287). 
Scott.     Short  Stories.      With  an  Introduction  by  Lord  David 

Cecil  (414). 
Short  Stories  of  the  South  Seas.    Selected  by  E.  C.  Parntvell 

(332). 
Spanish  Short  Stories.    Sixteenth  Century.     In  contemporary 

translations,  revised,  with  an  Introduction,  by  jf.  B.    Trend 

(326). 
T01.STOY.     Nine  Stories  (1855-63)  (420).     Twenty-three  Tales. 

Translated  by  Louise  and  Aylmer  Maude  (72). 
Trollope.    Tales  of  all  Countries  (397). 

^  Travel  and  Topography 

Borrow  (George).    The  Bible  in  Spain  (75).    Wild  Wales (224). 

Lavengro  (66).    Romany  Rye  (73). 
Dufferin  (Lord).      Letters  from  High  Latitudes  (158). 
Melville  (Herman).    Typee  (294).    Omoo  (275). 
MoRiER  (J.  J.).     Hajji  Baba  of  Ispahan.     Introduction  by  C.  W. 

StcKart,  and  a  Map  (238). 
Smollett  (Tobias).    Travels  through  France  and  Italy  in  1765, 

Introduction  (Ixii  pages)  by  Thomas  Seccombe  (90). 
Sterne  (Laurence).  A  Sentimental  Journey.   With  Introduciion 

by  Virginia  H^oo//(333). 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS,  ETC. 


Addison,  6. 
Aeschylus,  S- 
Africa,  Stories  of,  13. 
Ainsworth  (W.  Harrison),  8. 
A  Kempis  (Thomas),  13. 
Aksakotf  (Serghei),  4. 
American  Criticism,  4,  10. 
American  Verse,  4. 
Ancient  Law,  13.  .      ,    ,, 

Apocrypha,    The    (Revised    Ver- 
sion), 13. 
Aristophanes,  5. 
Arnold  (Matthew),  11. 
Aurelius  (Marcus),  ii,  13. 
Austen  (Jane),  8. 
Austrian  Short  Stories,  13. 

Bacon  (Francis),  11. 
Bagetiot  (Walter),  12. 
Barham  (Richard),  11. 
Barrow  (Sir  John),  10. 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  6. 
Blackmore  (R   D.),  «• 
Blake  (William),  11. 
Borrow  (George),  3,  I4. 
British  Colonial  Policy,  13. 

Foreign  Policy,  13- 
Brontj  Sisters,  8,  11. 
Browning  (Eliz.  Barrett),  II. 
Browning  (Robert),  6,  11. 
Buckle  (T.  H.),  10,  la. 
Bunyan  (John),  8. 
Burke,  12. 
Bums  (Robert),  11. 
Butler,  8. 
Byron  (Lord),  11. 

Cariyle  (Thomas),  5,  6,  10. 
Cellini  (Benvenuto),  4. 
Cervantes,  8. 
Chaucer,  11. 
Chesterfield,  10. 
Cobbold  (Richard),  8. 
Coleridge  (S.  T.),  10,  II. 
CoUins  (Wilkie),  8. 
Colman,  6. 
Confucius,  13. 
Congreve  (William),  6,  II. 
Cooper  (J.  Fenimore),  8. 
Cowper  (William),  10. 
Crabbe,  5. 

Crime  and  Detection,  13. 
Critical  Essays,  3,  7,  10. 
Czech  Tales,  13. 

Dante,  3,  11. 
Darvv-in  (Charles),  11. 
Defoe  (Daniel),  8 . 
Dekker,  6. 


De  Quincey  (Thomas),  4. 
Dickens  (Charies),  8,  14. 
Disraeli  (Benjamin),  8. 
Dobson  (Austin),  5,  7,  Hi 
Don  Quixote,  8. 
Dryden,  s,  6. 
Dufferin  (Lord),  10,  14. 

Eighteenth-Century  Comedies,  6. 

Eliot  (George),  8. 

Elizabethan  Comedies,  6. 

Emerson  (R.  W.),  7- 

English  Critical  tssays,  7,  10. 

English  Essays,  3,  4. 

English  Prose,  4. 

English  Short  Stories.  3,4,  14. 

English  Songs  and  Ballads,  4,  11. 

English  Speeches,  12. 

English  Verse,  4,  11. 

Farquhar,  6. 
Fielding  (Henry),  6,  8. 
Four  Gospels,  13. 
Francis  (St.),  5.  Il- 
Franklin  (Benjamin),  4. 
French  Short  Stories,  14. 
Froude  (J.  A.),  7. 

Gait  (John),  8. 

Gaskell  (Mri.),  5.  8.  14- 

Gay,  6. 

German  Short  Stories,  14. 

Ghosts  and  Marvels,  14. 

Gibbon  (Edward),  4,  10. 

Gil  Bias.  Q. 

Goethe,  6,  11,  12. 

Goldsmith  (Oliver),  6,  8,  n. 

Gray  (Thomas),  10. 

Harris  (J.  C),  8. 
Harte  (Bret),  14. 
Hawthorne  (Nathaniel),  8,  14. 
Haydon  (B.  K.),  5- 
Hazlitt  (William),  5.  7,  10. 
Herbert  (George),  11. 
Herrick  (Robert),  11. 
Holme  (Constance),  9. 
Holmes  (Oliver  Wendell),  7. 
Homer,  5,  12. 
Hood  (Thomas),  I2. 
Home  (R.  H.),  7. 
Houghton  (Lord),  5, 
Hunt  (Leigh).  5,  y. 

Ibsen  (Henrik),  6,  I2. 
Incnbald  (Airs.),  o. 
Ingoldsby  Legends,  II. 
Irving  (Wasfungton),  7,  10,  14. 

Johnson  (Samuel),  5,  10. 


I6 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS,  ETC. 


Keats,  12. 
Keble  (John),  12. 
Keith  (A.  B.),  13. 
Kingsley  (Henry),  9. 
Koran,  The,  13. 

Lamb  (Charles),  7. 
La  Motte  Kout.u^,  9. 
Landor  (W.  S.),  7. 
Le  Fanu  (J.  S.),  9. 
Lesage,  g. 
Longlellow  (H.  VV.),  12. 

Macaulay  (T.  B.),  10,  i3. 
Machiavelli,  13. 
Maine,  Sir  Henry,  13. 
Marcus  Aurelius,  11,  13, 
Marlowe  (Christopher),  6,  la. 
Marryat  (Captain),  9. 
Massinger,  6. 
Maude  (Aylmer),  3,5. 
Meinhold  (J.  W.).  9. 
Melville  (Herman),  9,  14. 
Mill  (John  Stuart),  5,  13. 
Milton  (John),  7,  13. 
Montai'.'np.  7. 
More  (Paul  Elmer),  10. 
Morier  (J.  J.)    9,  14. 
Morris  (W.),  12. 
Morton,  6. 
Motley  (J .  L.),  10. 
Murphy,  6. 

Narrative  Verse,  4,  12. 
Nekrassov,  12. 
New  Testament,  13. 

Old  Testament,  13. 
Otway,  6. 

Palgrave  (F.  T.),  4. 
Pamphlets  and  Tracts,  4. 
Peacock  (T.  L.),  g 
Peacock  (W.),  4. 
Persian  (From  the)    14. 
Poe  CEt'gar  Allan\  14. 
Polish  'Jales,  14. 
Prescott  fW.  H.).  10. 
Pre-Shakespearean  Comedies,  6. 

Rabelais,  3,  9. 
Reading  at  Random,  4. 
Redman  (B.  R.),  4. 
Restoration  'I'raycdies,  6. 
Reynolds  (Frederick),  6. 


Reynolds  (Sir  Joshua),  7. 
Rossetti  (Christina),  12. 
Rowe,  6. 

Ruskin  (John),  7,  13. 
Russian  Short  Stories,  14. 
Rutheiford  (Mark),  7. 

Sainte-Beuve,  lo. 
Scott  (Sir  W.),  s,  9,  12,  14. 
Scottish  Verse,  4.  12. 
Shakespeare,  6,  12. 
Shakespeare  Criticism,  10. 
Shakespeare's     Predecessors     and 

Contemporaries,  6. 
Shelley,  12. 
Sheridan  (R.  B.),  6. 
Smith  (Adam),  it. 
Smith  (Alexander),  7. 
SmoUeit  ( T.),  7,  9,  14. 
Sophocles,  5. 
Southeme,  6. 
Southey  (Robert),  10. 
South  Seas,  Short  Stories  of,  14. 
Spanish  Short  Stories,  14. 
Steele,  6. 

Sterne  (Laurence),  7,  0,  14. 
Stevenson  (R.  L.),  7,  9. 
StUTgis,  9. 
Swift  (Jonathan),  9. 
Swmnerton  (I'rank),  9. 

Taylor  (Meadows),  9. 
Tenryson  (Lord),  12. 
Thackeray  (W.  M.),  9. 
Thoreau  (H.  D.),  7. 
Three  Dervishes,  The,  14. 
Tolstoy,  3,  5,  6, 7, 9,  II, 13. 14. 
Tracts  and  Pamphlets,  4,  8. 
Trevelyan,  5. 
TroUope  (Anthony),  3,  5,  9,  14. 

Virgil,  s,  12. 

Walton  (Izaak),  s,  8. 
Watts-Dunton  (Theodore),  9. 
Webster,  6. 
Wells  (Charles),  12. 
Wells  (H.  (;.).  4- 
Wharton  (Edith),  9. 
White  (Gilberi),  8,  10. 
Whitman  (Walt),  8,  12. 
Whiltier  (J.  C.)    12. 
Wordsworth  (William),  la. 


Further  Volttmes  art  in  preparation. 


September  1937. 


PRINTED  IN  GREAT  BRITAIN 


PA 
3827 

A26 
1912 


Aeschylus 

The  seven  plays  in  Englisl 
verse,     ^W  ed.,  rev. 


PLEASE  DO  NOT  REMOVE 
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